"People see this orange stuff; they know something's going down -- they know something big's going to happen," a driver says from the cab of his truck, stopped in Central Park, part way through the HBO documentary "The Gates."

And was he ever on target.

The program debuts at 10 p.m. tomorrow, the third anniversary of artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude's monumental artwork/event "The Gates, Central Park, New York City, 1979-2005," which drew thousands during 16 cold winter days in 2005, becoming a city celebration and a media phenomenon.

Viewers will see the making of "The Gates," from its rejection by the city when first proposed in 1979 through its open-armed embrace by Mayor Michael Bloomberg in 2003; from reactions of naysayers in the early days of its installation through its triumphant reception when Bloomberg unfurled the first of 7,503 saffron-colored banners on the morning of Feb. 12, 2005.

Viewers are given a taste of the countless meetings the artists attended to explain themselves and to solicit support, and along the way get a blunt look at what makes big city bureaucracy tick.

There is humor also, especially in Jeanne-Claude's remarks, which counterpoint Christo's quiet yet intense passion for his work. When prodded by reporters for a projected cost of "The Gates," for example, Jeanne-Claude compares committing to the artwork to having a child: "Ask your mother if she had an estimate on you." She later says that she and Christo were both born during the same hour of June 13, 1935 -- but to two different mothers. When someone adds, jokingly, "and two different fathers," she quips, "That we will never know."

Seeing how the artists have aged since they conceived the project adds a physical component to the measure of time -- and perseverance -- it took to make "The Gates" happen. Most surprising is Jeanne-Claude's hair, brown early on but as flaming as the wind-tossed red-orange material she walks beneath in 2005.

Christo is briefly shown drawing, less than I would have liked. The artists funded the project, estimated to cost in the millions, through sales of their work, including preparatory studies and models. It would have been informative to see more of those creative efforts.

Finally, Central Park is presented as grand host, at dawn, dusk, in the rain, the sun, at night, snow-covered, cloud-shadowed; with people of all ages, ethnicities and nationalities wandering the winding trails that are articulated in this generally monochromatic season by the spaced, vibrant orange frames.

The story is a fascinating one (and something the artists consider an integral part of the overall work), and one can only imagine the hours of filming that went into documenting it.

Edited to 98 minutes, the program is going to appeal most to true believers -- art aficionados and those who want to re-live having been there, or who wished they had been and want an immersion experience. That would include this reviewer, who enjoyed the compatibility between the aesthetics of the artists and of the filmmakers. But I concede that some would prefer a more direct, less poetic delivery.