A Sampler of the Best Documentary Films Ever: Part Two

Even for a jaded movie hound like myself, it's been a revelation to experience both the quality and range of documentaries available for home viewing. At their best, these kinds of films provide an immediacy and intimacy that inevitably makes the subject matter more compelling.

This second installment of top documentaries explores titles relating to the arts, politics, and war. I'll then end with a bonus: two special films which shed light on the unique challenges faced by those afflicted with mental or emotional defects.

Happily, there is no shortage of excellent titles that celebrate human creativity-specifically, those directors, actors, painters, musicians, and dancers whose efforts infuse our lives with drama, color and meaning.

The daunting perils and pressures facing the film director are revealed in "Lost In La Mancha"(2003) which follows Terry Gilliam's ill-fated attempt to shoot the definitive version of the Don Quixote tale. The lesson is simple: on a film production, even the combined elements of talent, inspiration, and hard work will fall short if fate conspires to intervene. "Lost" is fascinating, like watching an accident happen in slow motion.

Nostalgic movie fans should appreciate the beguiling "Marcello Mastroianni: I Remember"(1997). Here the famous actor looks back on a long, eventful career with humility and humor. With a running time slightly over three hours, Mastroianni's still potent charm makes the film seem half as long. His unaffected warmth and love of his craft shine through his stories, shattering the vain romantic hero stereotype he so loathed. For an endearing portrait of a consummate leading man, look no further.

Henri-Georges Clouzot's "The Mystery of Picasso"(1956) is a riveting, stunningly original achievement. Here the movie screen becomes the canvas on which the artist paints, and Picasso creates art before our very eyes which will only exist on film (all pieces were destroyed after shooting). It is a breathtaking visual experiment that pays off. At intervals between the painting sequences, we also get to observe the interplay between artist and director, which supplies a tantalizing flavor of Picasso the man.

"Homage To Chagall: The Colours of Love" (1977) is a more demanding but no less rewarding study of the artist Marc Chagall. A poet and mystic as well as painter, haunting shots of his work are juxtaposed with readings of the artist's own words by actors James Mason and Joseph Wiseman. What emerges is a profound portrait of a bona-fide genius, whose goal was to portray the many shades and facets of love.

The spiritual force that is gospel music jumps off the screen in "Say Amen, Somebody"(1982). Part history of the movement, part here-and-now experience of gospel's healing power, "Amen" is full of upstanding people for whom church on Sunday is not an obligation, but a kind of joyful rejuvenation. See this movie, and share the joy.

You don't have to love jazz to appreciate Bert Stern's "Jazz On A Summer's Day" (1958). The setting is the Newport Jazz Festival in the distant balmy summer of 1958. On hand are jazz legends Louis Armstrong, Thelonious Monk, and Gerry Mulligan, not to mention gospel singer Mahalia Jackson and a youthful Chuck Berry. The vibrancy of the color photography makes it all look like it was shot last week. "Jazz" is a priceless filmed document of our country's musical heritage.

Next, there's "Dancemaker"(1999), a penetrating profile of choreographer Paul Taylor's modern dance company. The film vividly conveys the blissful torture of the modern dance world: the enormous physical exertions involved and their debilitating long-term effects; the cut-throat competition and absence of financial rewards and security, all borne happily for the exhilaration of performance and the chance to work with an acknowledged master. Taylor himself is at once a brutal task-master, insecure about his work, and overall, a somewhat lonely human being, owing to a solitary early life in foster care. A pure love of the dance is the unifying, invigorating force for him and his company, and we are the beneficiaries.

Now we move to that intricate dance of ideas and images that we call politics. The 1992 presidential campaign may seem like eons ago, but D.A. Pennebaker's "The War Room"(1993) brings it all back. The movie focuses on Clinton's aggressive key operatives, in particular the blunt, unconventional James Carville, whose lack of social graces is balanced by a searing intelligence and ruthless political instinct. Try watching this on a double bill with Mike Nichols' "Primary Colors", and compare Billy Bob Thornton's portrayal of Carville with the real article.

Then we have the age-old Achilles heel of elected politicians, generals, and other flawed functionaries: the seemingly inevitable waging of war. In the realm of documentaries, the conflict in Vietnam holds a special interest and significance as the first war America would lose, both on the ground in Indochina, and back home.

Veteran documentarian Errol Morris hit a career peak in last year's Oscar-winning "Fog Of War", featuring former Defense Secretary Robert McNamara's painful reminiscences of his central role in extending this divisive war. Interestingly, he doesn't attempt to justify his actions, but rather come to terms with the myriad struggles he faced then, and the weight of responsibility he's carried since. "Fog" thus manages to tell a very human story while providing hard-edged insight into fateful decisions made at the highest levels.

Peter Davis's shattering Vietnam documentary "Hearts And Minds" (1974) is an ideal companion piece to "Fog", as it places us at the heart of the conflict, recounting the tragic toll in lives, while examining the nature and effect of how the first "television war" was portrayed in our own living rooms. Via living testaments like this, Vietnam will remain a powerful cautionary tale.

I close with two titles which tell very personal stories about coping with mental illness and retardation. First, we have "Best Boy" (1979), film-maker Ira Wohl's immensely moving profile of his cousin Philly, a mentally handicapped adult who must adjust to a more independent life as his parents reach advanced age. "Boy" draws you in from the start, but the emotional effects are cumulative. Ultimately Philly's plucky spirit becomes an example of courage which all we "normal" people could only hope to follow. "Best Boy" deservedly won an Oscar for Best Documentary in 1979. Don't miss it.

"Stevie" (2003) is a darker, more complex portrayal of a young man whose earliest experience of neglect has created a deep vein of anger he struggles to control. At the outset we learn that the film's director/narrator, Steve James, had been a "big brother" role model for a troubled boy named Stevie years before. Feeling guilty about losing contact over the years, James decides to get back in touch to check on Stevie's progress, and to film whatever he discovers. Thus we enter the life of a deeply wounded man who clearly has goodness in him, but lacks the foundation of early nurturing to conquer his self-destructive impulses. Stevie's sad, affecting journey is impossible to forget.

As these releases should demonstrate, any increased attention and emphasis on documentaries is good news. Too often perceived in the past as dry or dull, the cream of this crop actually manages to entertain and enlighten in equal measure, so that in the end, the most important thing of all happens: the audience wins.