Provo resident Michael Morris found himself momentarily surprised when he opened his newspaper recently and was confronted by the prominent picture of a shaggy-haired man wearing women's makeup and a strapless sequined gown while playing bass guitar.

He received an even greater shock shortly thereafter upon discovering that his wife played an integral role in the man's transformation from ex-rock star to Mormon.

The man in question was Arthur "Killer" Kane, bassist in the early 1970s punk-glam band the New York Dolls. Kane is the featured subject in the documentary "New York Doll," a much buzzed-about film that has been playing to sold-out audiences throughout the Sundance Film Festival.

The documentary details Kane's stint in the Dolls, his personal struggles in the 30 years following the band's bitter breakup, and his subsequent baptism into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Morris knew none of that as he stared at the newspaper photo, which showed Kane during a New York Dolls concert back in the band's heyday. He merely saw it as an opportunity to have a little friendly banter with his wife, Kimberly.

"I looked at the caption to the picture and, trying to be funny, said, 'Sweetheart, do you know Arthur Kane? You know, from the New York Dolls?' " he related.

Imagine his surprise when she did.

"I was just being stupid really," Morris said. "If anybody knew rock and roll people, it would have been me -- and I didn't even know the New York Dolls."

In fact, one could say that if it wasn't for Kimberly Morris and Erika Finlayson, the film "New York Doll" might have never been made. That's because in July 1989, Morris and Finlayson -- then known as Sister Partridge and Sister Lambert, respectively -- were the two LDS missionaries who made initial contact with Kane in West Hollywood, Calif., and presented him with a copy of the Book of Mormon.

Kane had seen an advertisement for a free copy of the book while scanning through a TV Guide. Intrigued, he requested one. He was expecting it to be mailed, however, not delivered in person.

Getting the book into Kane's hands proved difficult, Kimberly Morris said, noting that he lived in an apartment building where visitors needed to be "buzzed" in and there were no nearby areas to park. The two missionaries had made several attempts to reach Kane, but to no avail.

"I know we tried on more than one occasion," she said. "We only had an address and a name, and no phone number. You're tempted to think, 'Is it worth it to keep trying?' "

Then, in the final days of Morris's mission, the companions finally connected with the one-time rocker. Kane made a memorable first impression on Morris -- for all the wrong reasons.

"He retaught me what I seem to have to learn over and over in my life -- you can't judge a book by its cover," she said. "I remember getting off the elevator in his apartment building and walking down the hall. He was walking toward us, and I thought to myself, 'I hope this isn't the man we are supposed to meet.' But it was."

Morris said Kane's apartment was filled with cats and porcelain dolls, which she found bizarre. He mentioned he had been in the New York Dolls and showed the missionaries band pictures and posters on the wall.

"From the pictures, they reminded me of KISS," said Morris, referring to the hard rock band known for its outrageous makeup and costumes. "I had not been into that type of music, so I wasn't that excited about it."

She also remembers the reason Kane gave for requesting the Book of Mormon.

"He told us that he always thought if God loved all of his children that Christ would have come to more people than just the people in Israel," she said.

The missionaries delivered the book and challenged him to pray about it. In the film, Kane said he did receive an answer to prayer -- which he compared to being an "LSD trip from the Lord" -- and decided to be baptized, about three months after the initial visit.

"He was just a fascinating person to know," said Finlayson, of Hanover, N.H., who continued teaching Kane after Morris's departure. "You think of rock stars as being people who are kind of rude and in your face, and he could not have been more opposite. He was just very thoughtful in really wanting to change his life. He was very excited about the direction of his life. And things got better from there."

Morris said her one visit with Kane left a lasting impression.

"It was just so unique that I've never forgotten him," she said. "If I were to pick one person on my mission who I had given a Book of Mormon to and they would get baptized, it would not be him."

The documentary film about Kane -- and his unanticipated reunion with surviving members of the New York Dolls for a pair of 2004 concerts in London -- has been playing to much acclaim at Sundance. According to director Greg Whiteley, response to the film has exceeded pre-festival expectations.

"It's just completely overwhelming," Whiteley said. "We thought we had something special coming into the festival, but we've just been overwhelmed by people's response."

Whiteley said the documentary appears to be reaching people of all backgrounds, and even crossing religious boundaries.

"I don't believe that this is a Mormon film," he said. "I believe it's a story about a guy, and he's Mormon.

"What amazes me is how many different demographics of people have been able to access the film and be touched by it in similar ways. There was a young kid the other day, a musician, early 20s, who was just very emotional. Something about it really struck a chord. A 55-year-old man just really said, 'This is my film. This is my story ... ' I can only hope that the reaction, if we're lucky enough to move on from Sundance, I hope we're that impactful in other places."

Moving on from Sundance appears to be a certainty for "New York Doll" at this point. Whiteley said he has already received a few tentative offers and additional overtures from different companies for distribution rights to the film. Documentaries have not always had the best clout at the box office, but the recent success of Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11" and Morgan Spurlock's "Super Size Me," an entrant at Sundance last year, may be changing that perception.

"In the past, documentaries have been a mixed bag in terms of what they can yield at the box office," Whiteley said. "However, and this film festival is a great example of it, there seems to be a growing appetite for this type of storytelling. I think buyers and distributors are starting to recognize that."

The best ambassador for "New York Doll," Whiteley said, is Kane himself.

"It's all Arthur. I would love to take credit for it as a great filmmaker and it's just not true here," he said. "He is a great character and his guilelessness and his honesty and his vulnerability are captivating. We were just lucky enough to be around with a camera."

And Michael Morris was lucky enough to playfully mention the Arthur Kane newspaper story to his wife.

"I was just making small talk with my wife and she turned out to be one of the missionaries that delivered the copy of the Book of Mormon to him," he said. "When she told me she knew Arthur Kane, I thought, 'This is very weird.' It's kind of a small-world story."

One that's enjoying a big stage at Sundance.