40. “America to Me” (2018)
Following his stand out Chicago-based documentaries “Hoop Dreams” and “The Interrupters,” Steve James turned his camera on Oak Park and River Forest High School in suburban Chicago for the profound docuseries “America to Me,” following a year in the lives of twelve students, varied by age, race, and social status. Throughout ten episodes, James (and his ‘segment directors,’ which include renowned documentarian Bing Liu) investigate the multifaceted reasons why such a renowned school has such a wide achievement gap. By focusing in on the racial inequality of well-to-do diverse suburban school, “America to Me” highlights the persuasive biases that go into the American education system. OPRF serves as a microcosm for these problems, yet James never forgets the individual students he’s following, infusing his series with a sense of humanity often missing from a polemic. Unfortunately lost among the wealth of shows in 2018, this Starz series stands out as the most comprehensive look at the intersection of race and education in the past decade. – Christian Gallachio
39. “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” (2018)
One of this year’s most enjoyable films is Marielle Heller’s “A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood”: a deeply empathic character-focused drama about the effect that television personality Fred Rogers had on one deeply cynical journalist. All that said, Heller’s film is less about Fred Rogers than about America’s collective relationship to him and his work (which is probably why Tom Hanks will be nominated in the Best Supporting category, as opposed to Best Actor). For those who desire a peak behind the curtain, so to speak, as to what it was exactly that made Fred Rogers tick, Morgan Neville’s deeply felt and sensationally moving “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” offers a generous abundance of insight into the former host of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.” Moreover, Neville’s film examines the core philosophies at the heart of the Mr. Rogers ethos: that kindness will set you free, that children possess wisdom beyond their years, and that we could all stand to be more decent and understanding toward one another. The film features interviews with Rogers’ family, including his widow Joanne and her sons John and Jim, as well as Tom Junod, who penned the profile “Can You Say… Hero?” and served as the inspiration for Matthew Rhys’ character in this year’s fictionalized version of the Mr. Rogers story. “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” is nothing less than a cinematic balm: a solvent to ease the wounds of our souls, and a warm, restorative reminder that a real-life angel once walked among us, even if he wouldn’t be able to make sense of the polarized present we currently inhabit. – NL
38. “Honeyland” (2019)
Some of the finest documentaries of all-time detail generational shifts, the moments when long-standing traditions are about to be abandoned, and how that affects those still engaged with them. Such is the case with Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov’s melancholy portrait of Hatidze Muratova, a rural Macedonian beekeeper whose meticulous methodology is seen as increasingly old-fashioned – especially by the new neighbors whose actions endanger it. The film’s directors didn’t even speak the same language as its subjects, a handicap that nonetheless strengthened their work, forcing the filmmakers to tell their story in potent visuals and heartbreaking juxtapositions. – JB
37. “Leviathan” (2012)
You can practically smell the seawater and fish guts in Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Véréna Paravel’s “Leviathan,” a boldly experimental look at the daily operations of a commercial fishing vessel. Shot on multiple GoPro cameras tethered to the ship and passed between crew members, the film draws us into a series of claustrophobic crevices that no human eye can reach when it isn’t venturing into the surrounding ocean and leaving us at the mercy of the elements. Its gaze is decidedly inhuman, lingering as much on a can of beer or the remnants of a dead fish as the scars and tattoos on a man’s skin. But when the camera places us on the level of the (mostly doomed) animals, moments of surprising, often gruesome drama can unfold. Amidst all the chaos and monotony of its environment, “Leviathan” finds a strange and sickly beauty that exists beyond the comforts of character and story. After viewing Castaing-Taylor and Paravel’s ominous spectacle of flesh and metal, you may feel the need to take a long, hot shower, but you might also have a new understanding of the visceral power and potential of the medium of cinema. – David Pountain
36. “Life Itself” (2014)
Roger Ebert was more than just the greatest film critic of all time: he was someone who taught entire generations of viewers how to watch and understand movies. Some of us devoured Ebert’s books like sacred texts, and took his word as gospel, even when we found ourselves disagreeing with his reviews. Like many a well-paid film journalist, Ebert could be a snobby, intensely opinionated individual – a fact that “Life Itself,” a miraculous documentary about Ebert’s life and work, does not skirt over. And yet, even more so than that, Roger Ebert was someone who touchingly devoted the majority of his life to the championing and preservation of film. “Life Itself” is a poignant paean to the man’s enduring legacy. The film covers all of the crucial bases about Ebert’s prolific life, including his time collaborating with Russ Meyer, his marriage to Chaz Ebert, the cultural impact of the show he co-hosted with Gene Siskel, and his battle with thyroid cancer, which tragically took his life in April of 2013. The film features talking head interviews with the likes of Werner Herzog, Martin Scorsese, and Ava DuVernay – who, in addition to being lauded filmmakers in their own right, were also advocates of the “film as an empathy machine” mindset that Ebert championed throughout his life. Ebert’s influence extends to so much more than the “two thumbs up” rating system or must-read critical texts like “I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie.” He was someone for whom movies were a source of life, and, as “Life Itself” proves so beautifully, his legacy is still with us today. – NL
35. “This Is Not A Film” (2012)
One of the great acts of subversion and political protest of the decade—a post-modern dig at circumstances and a desperate look at creation when such a thing is forbidden— Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi’s “This Is Not A Film” is such a statement, playful, sly, and yet, heartbreaking given the context of which it was made and cannot be separated from. As he awaits sentencing on his indecency charges for the controversial films he has made by the Iranian government, Panahi was held under house arrest, stripped of his equipment and told he could not make any movies until further notice. But like a tiger trapped in a cage, dying for freedom of expression, an iPhone is snuck into his apartment and the inventive filmmaker does what he can—plotting out movies that he cannot legally realize, sometimes tortured by this very notion. Panahi is as incarcerated in his mind as he is in his own physical circumstances, but doing the best he can, stalks every corner of his space, plotting, thinking, crafting imaginary scenes and sequences for stories that may never come to fruition. Ultimately smuggled out of Iran in a birthday cake so it could make a sneaky submission into Cannes at the last minute, “This Is Not A Film” is a profoundly moving act of defiance and a testament to the spirit of freedom of expression. -RP
34. “Fire at Sea” (2016)
Director Gianfranco Rosi explores the European immigration crisis with a scalpel rather than the customary sledgehammer, via his laser-sharp focus on the difficulties of daily life on the Sicilian province of Lampedusa, a landing point for immigrants crossing to Europe. But his film, which eschews the expected punditry and hand-holding narration, is about behavior than information, sitting a stylistic crossroads between current events documentary and Italian neorealism. Rosi’s approach, structurally and tonally, is closer to narrative than nonfiction, leaving the viewer adrift for long stretches, and refusing to push easy buttons that tell us how to feel about these events. He merely observes, quietly but engagingly, as a human rights crisis unfolds – and implicitly dares us to frame it in purely political terms. – JB
33. “Ex Libris: The New York Public Library” (2017)
Sticking up for your lowly local library can often feel like a fool’s errand, particularly when it’s an easy line scratch off an austerity budget. But leave it to Frederick Wiseman to paint an absolutely gorgeous portrait and defense, not just of the library system, but its role within the complex fabric of a metropolitan city. Spreading out over three, highly engaging hours, “Ex Libris: The New York Public Library” doesn’t just hang out at the institution’s iconic 476 Fifth Avenue location. Instead, it takes audiences to branches located in many different boroughs, highlighting everything from kids’ programs to archival work that makes up wide-ranging mandate of the public/private institution. It’s not a mistake that Wiseman re-emphasizes the private and public funding that maintains the balance of the New York Public Library system; he clearly believes in it. However, ‘Ex Libris’ is not a polemic so much as gently persuasive argument at the necessity of the system, one that connects all New Yorkers — regardless of class or race — in a city that can often feel very divided. In this way, ‘Ex Libris’ is also a love letter to the city, its people, and the pulsing lifeline of information, education, and illumination that keeps it vibrant. — Kevin Jagernauth
32. “Kate Plays Christine” (2016)
It’s difficult to think of a more original and haunting documentary than Robert Greene’s “Kate Plays Christine,” which follows Kate Lyn Sheil as she embodies Christine Chubbuck, a Florida newscaster who killed herself on-air in in 1974 (also the subject of the 2016 movie “Christine” starring Rebecca Hall). While the film interviews various Sarasota, Florida residents who knew Chubbuck or knew of the event, it goes beyond true crime perversion to grapple with the unsolvable mystery of Chubbuck’s motivation. Sheil, an actress supposedly preparing to play Chubbuck, becomes the audience’s mirror, offering an unspeakably complex performance as the film progresses and blurs the line between documentary and narrative filmmaking. Like Andrea Riseborough, Sheil uses her plainness to her advantage, creating an eerie emotional void onto which the audience may project their judgments and assumptions about her troubled muse. It is an “emotionally gripping and infinitely thought-provoking” film, one that expands the definition of the genre itself, and elevates Sheil as one of the most undersung newcomers of the decade. –Lena Wilson
31. “Weiner” (2016)
There’s an undeniable sense of schadenfreude to be indulged in while digesting Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg’s unflinching and often brutally embarrassing documentary “Weiner,” which adopts a fly-on-the-wall approach to the unraveling of congressman Anthony Weiner’s public image after salacious text images of the onetime Mayoral hopeful were leaked via Twitter. Weiner comes across, for the most part, as a shrewd and intelligent man: someone who knows how to play the political game, for better or for worse. There are also traces of arrogance in the man’s private persona: a hubris that seems to implicitly suggest, “it [it being the kind of public downfall reserved for powerful men who are suddenly cancelled via social media] could never happen to me.” Those who find Weiner a disagreeable or even repellent figure will get a perverse kick out of seeing him taken down a peg. And yet, the film also adopts a disquieting poignancy when it shifts to the perspective of Weiner’s wife, Huma Abedin, whose blasé approach to her husband’s lascivious misdeeds suggests that she’s more used to this stuff than she may like to admit. Although it was technically released before Donald Trump was sworn into office, “Weiner” is an enthralling document of the modern political process as a kind of unruly moral circus, as well as a downward-spiraling nonfiction tragedy about a man whose propensity for sexting sewed the seeds of his own demise. It is, at times, impossible to watch. It’s also one of the more important documentaries of the last ten, maybe even twenty years. – NL