#202. Best of Enemies (2015)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

I despise televised debates, especially the ones centered around politics. They accomplish nothing, they never change anyone's opinion, and they always devolve into shouting contests where the loudest, most disruptive voice "wins". Frankly, just thinking about them irritates me, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive Gore Vidal and William F. Buckley Jr. (though the latter can forever fuck himself for many other reasons) for getting that particular ball rolling.

 

But while I have negative interest in watching two rich, entitled assholes pointlessly bicker with one another for an extended period of time (at least outside of a reality TV setting), this documentary does a pretty great job of presenting the subject matter in a way that's entertaining and easily digestible. It's snappy, it's fairly moderate, it includes a lot of enthusiastic talking heads, and it contextualizes the relevance of these men, both then and now, in a way that doesn't feel disingenuous or overblown.

 

Plus, I'm always a sucker for a historic doc that builds to a legitimate climax. So for someone like me, who knew practically nothing about either person or their encounters prior to my initial viewing, that ninth debate really bowled me over the first time, and didn't lose much of its power on a rewatch.

 

Grade: A-

 

#176. Faces Places (2017)

 

 

A.K.A. Visages Villages, which is much more fun to say.

 

What a delightful little documentary. You wouldn't necessarily expect a travelogue featuring two slightly self-serious artists to be so endearing, but it works thanks to the fact that they both clearly care about the subjects they're capturing, and because they bring a likeable combination of styles to the table. Agnès Varda's warmth and curiosity pairs incredibly well with JR's larger-than-life projects, and they come together to generate a sweet and often poignant look at the importance of individuals, communities, and spaces.

 

The structure does occasionally get repetitive at times, but it's generally loose and diverse enough that I'd call it far from tedious. For instance, the movie could also be considered something of an autobiography, as we similarly get to learn a lot about our filmmakers - and not just as artists, but as people. Through this intimate process of collaboration, they can share stories with one another, discuss a wide range of philosophical topics, and build an adorable bond.

 

And even if some of the more emotional moments feel heavily manufactured, they're endearing and enriching enough that I can still enjoy them for what they are.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. My expectations of Godard were pretty low, but goddamn.

 

#91. Bowling for Columbine (2002)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Even putting aside his politics, Michael Moore's not for everybody. The guy can be annoying, intrusive, entitled, and, as a filmmaker, biased to the point of skewing his own facts in order to prove a point. But when he weaponizes these trollish qualities against people and corporations that deserve it, as is the case with Bowling for Columbine, it can make for a work that's as gratifying as it is insightful.

 

This documentary is a riveting and powerful look at gun violence in America, using the 1999 Columbine shooting as an entry point. Sure, a lot of this subject matter might feel kinda quaint and obvious today (we hear about a new school shooting every other week now, it seems), but that just proves Moore's point, doesn't it? It shows that, even if we never come to any hard conclusions, this was a conversation that needed - and still needs - to happen if we want to see some change.

 

And Moore's great about packaging this material in a way that's easy to digest. He uses humour to keep things entertaining (while never taking it so far as to lose the gravity of the situation), and conducts interviews with such confrontation and disdain that you get some wonderfully embarrassing first-hand insight into how full of shit most of these loudmouth gun nuts really are.

 

I'd call this one essential viewing, but chances are your middle school already showed it to you.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. As a Canadian, I'm slightly dubious of the door-locking segment, amusing as it is. With one or two exceptions, everyone I know has always locked their doors.

 

#20. Crumb (1994)

 

 

By and large, documentaries aren't my thing. I'm really more of a fiction guy, at least as far as this medium is concerned (funny enough, when it comes to books, I tend to be the exact opposite). Of course, having said that, if the material interests me, I can absolutely get on board. And that was the case with Crumb. 

 

I didn't have much prior knowledge of this man or his cultural importance, but Terry Zwigoff enlightened me with an insightful and compelling portrait, one that also makes use of some careful structuring. We open with an introduction to his artistry and voice, and we then spend the next two hours learning why he has this particular voice. It's actually pretty fascinating.

 

That's not to say that I like the guy. I don't. He honestly comes off like a bit of a self-obsessed creep. But the movie isn't really asking you to like him, either. It's incredibly honest about his shortcomings, from the controversial elements in his art to the evident flaws in his personality. And yet, when we delve a little deeper into his world, and start to learn more about him, the women in his life, and especially his brothers, everything falls into place. The information is doled out rather expertly, and it makes the whole thing feel strangely relatable, which is exactly what a biographical documentary is supposed to do.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. This is the second movie I've watched in two days where someone admits to finding Bugs Bunny attractive. Just thought that warranted mentioning.