11. “Hooligan Sparrow”
While watching “Hooligan Sparrow,” Nanfu Wang’s portrait of Chinese women’s-rights activist and provocateur “Sparrow” aka Ye Haiyan, it feels impossible that this film even got made and seen in theaters. There are scenes where Wang hides in a deserted Shanghai office at night, positive that Chinese law enforcement will confiscate her camera and footage; the film even opens with a gang of men attacking her and snatching at her camera, which she clutches onto and defends with everything she has. It’s not the only instance when a woman with a camera is seen as a threat. All of this is because a bold Chinese woman dared to call out sexual abuse and injustice. Wang follows Haiyan as she deals with the fallout of a protest in Hainan, where elementary-aged schoolgirls were brought to a hotel by their principal to be raped by government officials, an unfortunately all-too-common practice. After the protest, Sparrow is stalked, threatened with violence, beaten, arrested, jailed, and run from town to town with her daughter and boyfriend. Wang captures all of these shocking details, and the rough-hewn, scattershot quality of the film only underscores the intense danger that these women find themselves in, simply for speaking out and documenting the abuse of power. It’s shocking, hard to watch, and a powerful reminder of the importance of artistic and journalistic freedom that we all too often take for granted in the West. It could be a harbinger, a sparrow in the coal mine, if you will, of what could happen when a government cracks down on free expression.
10. “Tickled”
Who would have thought “Tickled,” a documentary delving into the underground world of competitive endurance tickling, would become one of the most shocking, suspenseful and utterly riveting pieces of film journalism in 2016? Certainly not David Farrier and Dylan Reeve, the directors who embarked on this mission. Initially expecting a goofy, lighthearted ride, these two New Zealand filmmakers uncover a sinister, downright horrifying trail of deceit, depravity and deception that’s been concealed for generations. But to give away the details would spoil half the fun. Not unlike “The Imposter” and “Catfish” before it, “Tickled” relishes in the bizarre and the sickening in equal measures, as reporter Farrier and his friend Reeve dive face-first into this web of corruption, fraud and decades-hidden revelations with willful resilience and an astounding commitment to untangling the truth. Putting their lives and safety at risk with each step forward, it would seem, Farrier and Reeve dispel suspense and unease by the second, feeding into their own (and, by turn, our own) curiosity and discomfort with trembling anxiety and diligent determination. Few horror films could capture this level of stomach-turning tension and disquieting unease — and 2016 was an exceptional year for horror, both inside and outside the cinema — and few documentaries are as engrossing, revealing and weirdly captivating as this one, no matter the year. At once a startling commentary on Internet culture, a textured examination into modern fetishes, and an illuminating, haunting character study, “Tickled” is no laughing matter. In fact, it might be one of the most chilling, shocking films you’ll see — even in a year as absurd and demented as this one. Forget skin-deep. This one will rattle your bones.
9. “Into The Inferno”
There might be diminishing returns from his fiction features (“Queen Of The Desert” and “Salt And Fire” were a pretty brutal one-two punch in the last few years, and remain undistributed in the U.S.), but Werner Herzog’s documentaries remain utterly fascinating and engaging, and he made two very good ones this year. The first, “Lo And Behold, Reveries Of The Connected World,” which saw the German filmmaker tackle the internet, was very good but perhaps bit off more than it could chew in terms of its subject matter. But the second, “Into The Inferno,” which debuted on Netflix this fall (Herzog’s first movie with the streaming service), was the director in classic form, tackling the awe-inspiring beauty and utter terror of nature, in this case the volcano. Springing from a friendship formed with volcano expert Clive Oppenheimer during the making of “Encounters At The End Of The World,” it sees the pair travel the world, from Indonesia to Iceland, looking at the lava-filled fissures that can create amazing sights, and are respected virtually as gods by some, but also capable of reshaping our world in clouds of instant death. It’s the perfect subject for Herzog, not just because of the absolute delight of repeatedly hearing him say the word “magma.” With some stunning archive footage melded with Herzog’s, and an operatic soundtrack, it builds to something that feels genuinely profound in its awe at the natural world.
8. “13th”
In the mood for pissing yourself off? Been feeling too calm about America’s history with racism lately? Let Ava DuVernay set your blood pressure skyrocketing with her latest film, “13th,” a doc that begins by questioning a ghastly disparity: How does America manage to house 25% of the world’s prisoners despite having only 5% of its total population? The film goes on to cite the Thirteenth Amendment of the United States Constitution, which abolished slavery and involuntary servitude except as a punishment for crime, and which almost since its inception has granted racist institutions a backdoor for perpetuating the practices of slavery in alternate, frighteningly legal forms. “13th” doesn’t mince words, pull punches, or otherwise soften the harsh realities of its messages. DuVernay isn’t interested in making a film that lets anyone pat themselves on the back for rejecting bigotry and prejudice; you might not be part of the problem per se, but the problem is so great as to be overwhelming, and it lacks easy solutions. But this is why “13th” is necessary: It’s packed with knowledge that supplements its vein of anger and its heartache. After all, knowledge is the best weapon we have against racism in all of its forms, and here, DuVernay becomes an invaluable educator.
7. “Tower”
Part traditional documentary, part rotoscope-animated dramatization, yet wholly and entirely human in its remarkably distinctive realization, Keith Maitland’s frightening, disturbing, mournful “Tower” is a startlingly powerful work laced in tragedy and tender contemplation — a richly nuanced depiction of grief, loss and anguish that’s unquestionably among the year’s most affecting and meaningful pieces of cinema. Though it explores the fatal University of Texas Tower shooting on August 1, 1966, it’s a story that’s no less valuable today than it was when it first hit the news. In fact, it might even hold more emotional heft and gravitas now, especially as school shootings and other appalling acts of mass violence have become a mainstay of modern life — something we’ve quietly grown accustomed to in our news feeds of late. If nothing else, “Tower” refuses to let these events hit the viewer quietly, to the point that anyone with half a soul has to find themselves profoundly moved by this vivid 82-minute display of calamity. Impeccably empathetic, visually extravagant and emotionally overwhelming, this Texas-based docudrama is one that’ll earn easy comparisons to “Waltz With Bashir” and “Waking Life” based solely on its presentation, but it’s truly a work that defies simplistic characterization.
6. “Kate Plays Christine”
The motive behind Christine Chubbuck’s fateful decision on July 15th, 1974 — when the 29-year-old news reporter walked into Channel 40’s studio determined to shoot herself on live television — is filled with mystery, and inspired one of the year’s most peculiar and thought-provoking documentaries. Foregoing the straight-forward investigative documentary format that’s too vulnerable to superfluous talking heads and the familiar linear veneer, Robert Greene goes for the story’s jugular vein: examining the thin line between reality and fiction. Whether she fully intended it or not, Chubbuck blurred that very line with her “blood and guts” display. Greene documents actress Kate Lyn Sheil playing a version of herself while she investigates and prepares to play Chubbuck in a film whose own purpose is suspect. Tapping into multiple layers of identity, acting and privacy, Greene, Sheil, cinematographer Sean Price Williams and Christine herself turn “Kate Plays Christine” into an astonishingly absorbing watch. Sheil gives a candid and revealing performance as the story unravels through her process, all while the pieces of Christine’s life keep falling into place in the most engaging ways. If all of that wasn’t enough, Greene ends up pointing a huge meta-question mark at our very own fascination with dark real-life subject matter like Christine’s story. A unique, hybrid animal of a documentary, boasting one of the year’s most intelligent takes on its subject.
