The best documentaries shine a light on social and political injustice, remind us of our history, teach us about the inner workings of our planet and universe, show us pockets of the world previously unfamiliar, and promote empathy for our fellow humans—empathy that comes from a broader understanding of humanity, an understanding that can often only be achieved by stepping into someone else’s shoes and living in their world, if only for a few moments or hours.
Of course, a single writer crafting a “best of” list for such an expansive, ubiquitous medium is a subjective endeavor; these lists often reveal more about the writer than the subject, so it’s with some trepidation that I look over mine and realize that the first five films are all about men, driven by hubris and ego, making or reflecting on decisions that have devastating consequences. “Delusional” is a word that could apply across the board, from the grizzly man who foolishly thought he had found a way to transcend nature’s food chain to the 28-year-old NSA whistleblower who may or may not have a Christ complex. There are the aging monsters who gleefully re-enact the murders of innocents they committed in the name of eradicating communism, and then there’s the architect of the Vietnam War, who glibly recounts decisions he made—decisions that caused the death of thousands—as if he were recalling an especially difficult chess game. And then there are the soldiers in the middle of it all, stationed in the most dangerous valley on the planet, fighting a war run by men who view them as expendable pawns.
The takeaway? Men are terrible.
The Fog of War: 11 Lessons From the Life of Robert S. McNamara (2003)
“Empathize with your enemy” is life lesson #1 from former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, but it could also be applied to filmmaker Errol Morris’s approach to interviewing McNamara forThe Fog of War. Morris doesn’t just give McNamara a platform to explain/defend himself as the architect of an unnecessary war that traded thousands of innocent lives for political points; he probes deep into McNamara’s psyche to paint a nuanced, not-unsympathetic portrait of a man far removed from the daily realities of combat who made high-level decisions for soldiers that were, to him, little more than abstractions, chess pieces in a bigger game that would never be won.
Grizzly Man (2005)
“Nature here is vile and base.” Werner Herzog said that about the jungles of Peru during the production ofFitzcarraldo(the moment is captured in Les Blank’s 1982 documentaryBurden of Dreams), but it could be the working thesis for the director’s body of work in the several decades that followed. Herzog’s obsession with the violence of the natural world and the quixotic men and women who think they can tame it is borne out in the story of Timothy Treadwell, an environmentalist who made it his mission to protect grizzly bears, going so far as to live among them for 13 summers at Alaska’s Katmai National Park. Mining hours of Treadwell’s own video footage of his time among the grizzlies along with interviews of wildlife experts and Treadwell’s friends, Herzog offers cautious salute to a man who foolishly thought he could transcend the natural order of things to find harmony among the violence. Treadwell’s tragic ending hammers home Herzog’s career-long point: in the primal battle of man vs. nature, nature always wins.
Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room (2005)
Alex Gibney’s breakout film hinted at what would make him one of the most respected documentarians working today, and it holds up.Enronfeels ahead of its time, shining a light on white collar criminals and corporate malfeasance happening on a scale previously difficult to imagine. The market manipulations perpetrated by Enron heavies Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling in some ways foreshadows the financial skullduggery that would lead to the 2008 financial crisis, and Gibney’s 2010 post-mortemInside Jobfeels like theEnronsequel we wish we didn’t need.
The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (2007)
There’s so much to love aboutThe King of Kong.Steve Wiebe is one of cinema’s great underdogs. Billy Mitchell is an utterly unique villain-foil. The weird world of vintage arcade game score-besting and the characters who populate it are presented with great love and affection by director Seth Gordon (Horrible Bosses), whose impeccable comic timing and eye for the absurd quickly opened some major doors in Hollywood. But the best thing aboutThe King of Kongis the way Gordon presents this fringe world full of misfits and weirdos as just another iteration of the American obsession with pastime as competition, and the man-boys who devote their lives to it. It could just as easily be about football.
Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father (2008)
Shot on a shoestring budget over several years by amateur filmmaker Kurt Kuenne,Dear Zacharystarts out as a moving memorial to Kuenne’s deceased best friend, Andrew Bagby, a family physician who was murdered outside Latrobe, Pennsylvania in 2001. Kuenne initially set out to create a video scrapbook meant only for Bagby’s family and his unborn son Zachary, but as the investigation of Bagby’s death yields a surprising prime suspect, Kuenne’s project evolves into something heartbreaking and unbelievable. Produced in the early days of the digital video revolution, it still serves as a potent example of what can happen when you remove the financial gatekeepers and democratize a medium. Part true-crime thriller, part indictment of an ineffectual legal system,Dear Zacharyis, ultimately, an anguished howl of rage in the face of incomprehensible tragedy and deferred justice.
Anvil: The Story of Anvil (2008)
In 1984, Canadian heavy metal band Anvil was on the cusp of success, touring the globe and performing to sold-out crowds alongside future giants of the genre like Scorpions and Bon Jovi. Unfortunately, success never fully materialized, and the band slipped into obscurity as its peers took over the world. 20 years later, the Anvil guys are working blue collar jobs and playing gigs at a local sports bar when they receive an unexpected offer to tour Europe, prompting an outrageous comeback odyssey.
Anvilis, first and foremost, a sentimental story about the second chances life sometimes unexpectedly hands us. It’s also frequently hilarious, and the mischievous comparisons to “Spinal Tap, but in real life” are not unwarranted. ButAnvil’s engine is its big, beating heart, and director Sacha Gervasi (who worked as a roadie for the band in the mid-80s) loves his subjects too much to let the comedy ever stoop to mockery.
Restrepo (2010)
Is there another documentary as effective asRestrepoat depicting the human cost of war? Maybe, but none so laser-focused or viscerally charged as Sebastian Junger’s and Tim Hetherington’s 2010 masterpiece. Shot over 15 months in 2007/2008 in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley (commonly referred to at the time as “the most dangerous place in the world”), the film follows the soldiers of Second Platoon, Battle Company as they fight to keep Taliban insurgents at bay while navigating a delicate relationship with the locals. The unseen enemy is everywhere; firefights with combatants hiding in the hills are a daily fact of life, and Hetherington and Junger bravely/foolishly stay on the soldiers’ heels every step of the way.
Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010)
French immigrant Thierry Guetta, obsessed with videotaping every moment of his life, sets out to make a documentary about street art after learning his cousin is world-famous street artist Invader. As Guetta immerses in L.A.’s art scene, he befriends the mysterious artist Banksy, and, eventually, creates his own artist persona in Mr. Brainwash. It just gets weirder from there.
At the peak of the art world’s breathless speculation surrounding the identity of Banksy (Is he even real? A group of people? The guy from Massive Attack?),Exit Through the Gift Shopdropped like a bomb, further obfuscating the question of “Who is he?” with a “documentary,” directed by Banksy, that purports to be non-fiction but might or might not be a put-on. Whatever the case, this is a grandly entertaining statement about the nature of art and the worship of artists that carries the ring of truth—whether or not the movie is the world’s most elaborate prank.
Man on Wire (2010)
History is full of foolhardy daredevils who pushed their limits and tempted fate for the sake of fame and fortune, and Philippe Petit might be the foolhardiest of them all; the French tightrope artist famously walked a high wire between the recently constructed Twin Towers in 1974. InMan on Wire, director James Marsh lovingly reconstructs the scheming and preparation that made the big walk possible while also exploring the obvious question: What would possess someone to do such a thing? (For maximum effect, viewers should followMan On Wirewith the last 30 minutes of Robert Zemeckis’sThe Walk.)
Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011)
For some creators, obsession is a violent, dysfunctional force that yields beauty only after chaos has had its day. For sushi master Jiro, obsession manifests in the quiet precision of his knifework and the austere, unassuming environment of his restaurant Sukiyabashi Jiro, a 10-seater closet-sized room, located in a Tokyo subway station, that serves the best sushi in the world. The film is as gentle as its subject, and director David Gelb’s balletic approach to shooting food (complete with Philip Glass and Max Richter music cues) has since been adopted by a slew of high-brow culinary shows—including the Netflix seriesChef’s Table, which Gelb created.
