DOC NYC — A–Z of films

Honigmann and her editor Jessica de Koning find an amiable rhythm, moving between straightforward interview segments and more contemplative moments.

Nothing is taken too seriously - there's plenty of teasing within the group itself - but respect is shown for the effort that has gone into all this.

All Light, Everywhere examines the microscopic and vertiginous in equal, beguiling measure.

From the first shot of a uniformed member of a cleaning team walking the tiled lip of a rooftop infinity pool this is the edge of image, the thing unseen.

Coming in at a short 71 minutes, Stern captures Spain’s creative energy and charisma.

The clothes they wear make you swoon and the colourised underwater images do the rest to transport us into a magical world.

Blankenbyl doesn't labour her point but instead lets Joe Berger's camerawork do the talking.

There's a winning combination of warmth and honesty to the way that she and her family share their lives that opens the door to viewers and asks them to shift their perspective.

For all its intricacy and cleverness, this is a film that never loses its central focus.

Arnold’s camera observes the gait of the animals so that right from the start we understand how they are constrained by their distorted bodies.

Do you like watching car chases? These men do them for a living.

Beshir keeps an eye on the natural environment as well as the sociopolitics, including the oppression of the Oromo people, while allowing a mythic element concerning the hunt for the water of life to flow alongside.

Inés Toharia’s documentary will make you consider the restoration process with fresh eyes.

Heineman is careful not to bludgeon viewers with the horror of it all.

By animating the whole movie, Rasmussen makes the story feel more immersive and of a whole piece.

There is a simple message from the film – only action can free us from the dark thoughts of hopelessness, inactivity, the impossibility of making a real change.

There are several places where statistics are given without context, and the background reading is a gloss of imagery.

Grain is a passionate tribute to the camera men and women eschewing digital convenience for film’s time-honoured texture.

This is a tragedy at any level. There's not just the siege but the associated mentality, a mixture of recursion, remorse, and regret.

Invincible Demons is a film that understands the aesthetic appeal of environmental abuse, but it doesn’t titillate with images of eco-collapse or sensationalise interviews with long-suffering Delhi citizens.

This isn’t just a tale of Chinese manipulation, however, as Wang goes on to show how America, too, played down the story initially, in ways that chillingly mirror what happened in Wuhan.

Julia is a film about food and about the change in attitude towards cooking one woman could spark.

A film full of intimacy and affection, of insight into the effort it takes to be both an artist and a human being.

For a documentary directly focused on the money side of the cannabis industry in California, Russo finds poignancy in the roots of the plant’s history.

Documentarian Milo Rau's hybrid feature is part passion play and part call for compassion.

An oneiric, sensory and imaginative journey documenting being young in contemporary India.

Ullón adopts a spare but attentive approach, not imposing herself or archive upon the film but instead letting Mateo and others tell this story through their conversations and via the old cassette player he uses to capture them.

A film which will remind its viewers why they fell in love with cinema in the first place.

Procession gives outsiders an intimate view of the damage done by abuse. It gives survivors a chance to see that there is hope: that the pain and the panic and other debilitating symptoms can recede, and there can be a life afterwards.

Insightful and at times wonderfully playful.

Made with plenty of upbeat vigour, the end result is a primer history lesson for newcomers to Sierra Leone that also touches on the cultural tensions that can develop even between those pulling in the same direction.

Directors Sami Khan and Smriti Mundhra show through this well-edited film, just how traumatic losing someone close can be.

There’s a difference between talking about something you remember and talking about something you have just watched – something to think about when you watch yet another documentary about another old white guy who has already had 15 films made about him

There is a lengthening here - but also a shortening of the emotional distance between us the viewer and those caught on camera.

All attempts to document true crime could be informed by this.

The Velvet Underground will restore your belief in documentaries!

Writing with Fire deftly infuses hope and inspiration into what could rightfully have been a wholly dire depiction of India’s most trodden-upon population.

This isn't just about big concepts and whiteboards but the everyday positive reinforcement that helps kids get on in all senses of the phrase.