AVQ&A: What's your favorite documentary?

I’ve watched and enjoyed so many documentaries, but none of them ever really burrowed their way into my psyche the way Grey Gardens did when I first saw it decades ago. And I’m not the only one. Even if you haven’t seen the original 1975 documentary by the Maysles brothers, you may already be aware of it through the many cultural references and adaptations based on it. There was a fictionalized HBO movie starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore, a Broadway musical, even a Documentary Now! parody. But to truly understand the complex mother-daughter relationship between Big Edie and Little Edie Beale, and their strange, haunted life contained within the walls of their crumbling estate, you have to go back to the source. These two eccentric women, who were relatives of Jacqueline Kennedy, show us the dark side of the American dream. Their inherited wealth and connections couldn’t protect them from becoming trapped in a life of bickering and squalor. It’s a fascinating character study, even if it feels exploitative at times. The Beales treat their cats and the raccoons living in their attic with more care and compassion than anyone (including the documentary film crew) ever treated them. It had to come from real life, because no one could have dreamed up such a tragic existence. [Cindy White]

A 1973 coal miners’ strike in southeast Kentucky only got its powerful energy company back to the bargaining table after its agents or sycophants had murdered multiple people. Barbara Kopple—immersed in the corrupt United Mine Workers of America election that would portend one of these killings—filmed it all, and made one of the best documentaries about mining, labor, and America: Harlan County, USA. Though coal’s national power has been in decline over the decades since the Oscar-winning film debuted (and the power wielded by its union members has dwindled in turn), the relationship between worker, politician, and corporation has barely shifted at all. Through Kopple’s serendipitous placement smack-dab in the middle of things, the course of her film rearranged itself around reality—expanding its focus beyond the strike and elections—while reality rearranged itself around her cameras. At least one striker was shot and killed during production, and the sheer amount of weapons on display from the enforcers hired by the power company makes you marvel that more weren’t gunned down in front of Kopple’s lens. While the thugs aren’t shy about threatening force on camera, it’s clear they’re thinking twice before brutalizing workers in front of an entire film crew. Come for the explosive fight for fairness in a country built on exploitation, stay for the massive soundtrack of folk songs scoring their eternal struggle. [Jacob Oller]

When I first saw American Movie in high school (having not known it was the Grand Jury Prize winner at Sundance or anything about it, just that the film was “amazing”), I was convinced it was a mockumentary. The comedic timing just felt too perfect to be real, like when aspiring filmmaker/30-year-old part-time paperboy Mark Borchardt, griping about being in debt while opening bills, lights up with joy when he’s offered a credit card, or when his longtime best friend, the late Mike Schank, says just about anything. But the film by director Chris Smith (who would go on to make the mesmerizing HBO docuseries 100 Foot Wave) was, to be sure, real and amazing and obsession-worthy, an equally funny and heartfelt chronicle of a Milwaukee dude trying to make his feature-length opus, Northwestern, a reality. A few years later, while in college in Milwaukee, my roommate threw a film festival on campus and was lucky enough to get Mark and Mike to emcee it. (If you’re a fan of this movie and that duo’s comedic chemistry, it went just as brilliantly you’d imagine, pounded non-alcoholic beers and riffs and all.) Afterwards, they joined us at our house for a party. They weren’t stars by any means, but, having watched my VHS of AM too many times to count, I don’t think I’ve ever been that starstruck. [Tim Lowery]  

Metallica was on their heels when they entered the studio to record the band’s 2004 album, St. Anger. Following the disappointing Load and ReLoad, Metallica was itching for a shakeup. Co-director Joe Berlinger, too, was licking his wounds from the disastrous Book Of Shadows: Blair Witch 2, which nearly destroyed his career. St. Anger had to work. Thankfully, it didn’t. Perhaps the most thrilling and exhaustive document about the production of a piece of shit since Julie Salamon’s The Devil’s Candy, Metallica: Some Kind Of Monster shows a portrait of a band making all the wrong decisions. The band offered Berlinger and co-director Bruce Sinofsky unfettered access to their process and personalities. The band delivered near-constant drama and comedy for the cameras, from Kirk Hammett’s fight for guitar solos to Lars Ulrich’s father telling him to “delete” his new music. Though the group brings in a therapist to help them work through their issues, to the band’s credit, Metallica does not look good in this movie. However, their near-ego-death experience allows for major arcs in Metallica’s history to be concluded, such as Lars’ reconciliation with former guitarist Dave Mustaine. There’s nothing quite like Some Kind Of Monster, a level of honesty and foolishness we’re rarely privy to. If only every bad album had a documentary this good. [Matt Schimkowitz]

Let me go a little left field of my colleagues and say my favorite documentary is ESPN’s The Fab Five. The story of the 1991 University of Michigan men’s basketball recruiting class (Chris Webber, Jalen Rose, Juwan Howard, Jimmy King, and Ray Jackson) has everything a great movie should have. There’s compelling characters, rich relationships, great conflict, juicy scandal and a clear goal—to win the NCAA championship (and beat Duke). Through that prism the film is able to explore issues of race and class, friendship and rivalry, and a question that’s still relevant today: Is it fair for the NCAA to exploit talented young athletes for financial gain without compensation?The Fab Five weaves these ideas together in a way that will entertain anyone, even non-sports fans. By the time the narrative builds to that infamous time-out call, The Fab Five has us completely in its thrall, stunned, heartbroken, and totally riveted. [Mary Kate Carr]

If I could only listen to only one band for the rest of my life it would probably be The National, so I may admittedly be a little biased in my love for their 2013 tour documentary, Mistaken For Strangers. But whether you love frontman Matt Berninger and his drunk refrigerator poetry lyrics (said with all the love in my heart, of course) or couldn’t care less about this particular brand of divorced dad music, you’ll still probably find something to latch onto in this surprisingly moving 90-minute film. That’s because it isn’t really about The National at all. Instead, Matt’s screwup, metal-head brother, Tom, delivers his portrait of the artist as a non-famous man, compiling footage he captured during his brief stint as a roadie on the band’s 2010 High Violet tour. Tom may have been terrible at supporting the band—a failure that inspires multiple on-camera spats between the brothers—but he turns out to be a pretty great filmmaker as he turns the camera on himself and his own relationship to his brother’s acclaim after he’s fired from the gig. For National fans, Mistaken For Strangers is a rare behind-the-curtain look at an often impenetrable group, one that adds even more depth to certain tracks off their ensuing album, Trouble Will Find Me. For casual listeners or non-fans, it’s a new type of tour doc entirely—one that’s far more concerned with who and what gets left behind. [Emma Keates]

Shaunak Sen wastes no time throwing you into All That Breathes’ visceral environment, which is, quite literally, the environment. I’m not talking about lush greenery or fantastic waterfalls. No, All That Breathes instead begins on a dark street full of trash, vermin and other small creatures scuttling, undeterred by the traffic and honking cars. It’s a snapshot of the 2022 documentary’s principle: Why differentiate between everything that’s alive when we’re all trying to make our best. All That Breathes, which earned an Oscar nomination and is now streaming on HBO, then pivots to brothers Saud and Nadeem. Living in New Delhi, India, they strive to save majestic birds like kites after they’re struggling to live through the populous city’s pollution, expanding infrastructure, and other hurdles. It offers an insight into their wildlife but also into humanity. All That Breathes isn’t an easy watch—you will cry—but it’s a worthwhile, commendable, warmhearted attempt into a subject that affects everyone: The purpose of our very existence. [Saloni Gajjar]