This year brought 18 features and seven shorts, all presented with live musical accompaniment.
Hetherington gave his life bearing witness, and Diary is what he saw.
Virgil Vernier’s Pandore is a marvelous example of minimal authorial presence.
Special guests, who gave “master classes,” were actors Tim Roth and Richard Jenkins, and art director Roger Christian.
The film feels familiar because every tabloid or celebrity story of the past 30 years has followed the exact same outline.
Roger Corman has had as much influence over modern Hollywood as Spielberg or Scorsese, and for good reason.
Our man Rajesh is as good as it gets, a courageous family man, a dreamer, for whom little seems to go right.
Junk Palace is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship well worth the small expense of time it takes to see it.
Let’s take it for what it’s worth: a delightful, feel-good movie by any measure.
It’s an inherently compelling story, so it’s surprising that there have been no feature-length documentaries made on the subject before.
The unqualified strength of Raising Renee is Beverly McIver.
Few nonfiction films so carefully adhere to the classic challenge of three-act structure than I Will Marry the Whole Village.
Guilty Pleasures is a movie about fantasy: creating it, living in it, and learning its limitations.
The human comedy that takes place within the cramped confines of huts is as rich as any found in a Herzog documentary.
Navigating through the selections playing below Canal St.—or actually, this year, at the Clearview Chelsea—isn’t for the faint of heart.
A frothy fantasy dressed up as a quirky character study, Copacabana is a mishmash of mismatched parts that left me feeling a little queasy.
The kids are all right, but none of them has the charisma or self-confidence to hijack the meandering narrative.
The triumph of films like this is the triumph of cowardice, complacency, and stealth conformity.
At the core of 96 Minutes is Dre, the film’s only source of real, relatable emotion, thanks in large part to a compelling performance by Evan Ross.
Natalia Almada captures the rhythms of daily and nightly life in a Sinaloa cemetery in a quiet flow of images that gains power with surprising speed.
El Atentado resonates with hypnotic flourishes of memory that are often inconsistent and contradictory.