Author Archives: basiltsiokos

Indiewire has posted the top ten lists of various film industry respondents, including mine. You can see the full list here.

While I’m not a particular fan of awards or top ten lists, I acknowledge that they are of interest to others, and that this kind of public recognition does matter to filmmakers, and I’m always happy to respond to Indiewire requests. Over the last few years, I’ve usually prepared at least two lists, top ten documentaries and top ten narratives, for a couple of reasons: 1) to make a point that docs usually receive the short end of the stick from most list makers, perhaps receiving one or two spots if that, and 2) I genuinely believe that docs and narratives should really be considered separately. However, bowing to convention and to the acknowledgement that I just haven’t gotten around to seeing a lot of the bigger narrative films this year, I’ve combined the list into one.

There are six docs in my top ten. Here are pointers to what I’ve written about those selections on what (not) to doc in the past:

THE INTERRUPTERS
RESURRECT DEAD
THE BLACK POWER MIXTAPE 1967-1975
THE ARBOR
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF NICOLAE CEAUSESCU
SUMMER PASTURE

Coming to Brooklyn’s indieScreen for three nights beginning tonight, Tuesday, December 27: BILL CUNNINGHAM NEW YORK

Richard Press debuted his affectionate portrait of The New York Times fashion photographer as the opening night film of last year’s New Directors/New Films. Since then, the doc traveled extensively on the festival circuit, winning audience and jury awards at Abu Dhabi, Melbourne, Sydney, Canberra, and Nantucket, and was released theatrically and on ancillary by Zeitgeist Films.

Cunningham, an octogenarian obsessed with documenting trends in fashion, has provided the Times Style section with the “On the Street” and “Evening Hours” columns for decades. Seen riding all over the city on his bicycle, stopping to snap a pedestrian’s trend-setting shoes or dress, or attending an upper-crust society function, Cunningham has largely remained a quiet observer, letting his photographs, and his meticulously arranged column speak for him instead. In Press’ winning film, he somewhat reluctantly allows himself to emerge from behind the camera, cautiously revealing aspects of his life that the viewer can readily tell have been kept close to his signature blue smock. At once both a fascinating immersion into one man’s creative process, and into the shifting visual landscape of New York fashion over half a century, the film also surprises with a deeply felt sadness about the personal sacrifices Cunningham apparently felt he had to make – most poignantly realized in a brief scene where the solitary photographer is asked about his personal relationships. Through its understated and insightful approach to a modest, quiet subject, Press’ film, like the most accomplished documentaries, is able to surpass the apparent specificity of its nominal topic to engage an audience that might not ever care about fashion photography.

Coming to PBS’ Independent Lens tomorrow, Thursday, December 22: THE WOODMANS

C Scott Willis premiered his captivating portrait of a family of artists at Tribeca last year, and walked away with the award for Best New York Documentary. After screening at additional festivals including Silverdocs and Cleveland, the doc had a limited theatrical release earlier this year.

While the spectre of Francesca Woodman seems to always lurk in the periphery of every frame of Willis’ film, true to the doc’s title, the focus is not exclusively on the celebrated youngest member of the family, who committed suicide in 1981 at the age of 22. Instead, a portrait emerges of the entire nuclear family, made up of artists in their own right. Francesca’s story serves as a structuring device, with her work and her diaries offering insight into the provocative body of photography she left behind. At the same time, intriguingly, she (or her success) serves as something of a standard against which the other members of her family inevitably measure themselves against. Parents George and Betty Woodman, speaking openly about harboring a certain level of jealousy that their own work may not be as lauded as that of their prematurely deceased daughter, may seem offputting to some viewers – parental love in some way eclipsed by professional envy. But their professional response to the personal trauma of losing their troubled daughter – the creative wellspring it seems to have brought them both – speaks to the power and uncompromising centrality of art mediating their experience of life and death.