Marcel Ophüls

The Sorrow and the Pity (Le chagrin et la pitié, 1969), the unrivaled documentary masterpiece by Marcel Ophüls, is infused with contempt for French citizens who collaborated with the Nazis during World War II. In the film, Pierre Mendès-France nobly represents the French Resistance (second still). Christian de la Mazière (third still) provides an unabashed foil. Ophüls (top still) takes a confrontational approach with former collaborators who have chosen to forget the years 1940 to 1944. Ophüls explores the best, the mediocre, and the worst of France under Nazi occupation by centering his gaze on one city, Clermont-Ferrand.

Robin Hessman

My Perestroika, (2010) by Robin Hessman, documents five Russian adults in mid-life. They are surprisingly open, sharing home movies from their childhoods under Soviet rule and allowing cameras into their imperfect lives in today's Russia. The film gives the viewer an intimately close-in view, as if we're a guest at the kitchen table being offered a vodka. Old Soviet-era propaganda footage deepens Hessman's observation of post-Cold War skepticism. Two of the characters, Borya (top still) and Lyuba, are married; interactions with their young son convey the global commercialism that has perhaps replaced old ideologies.

James Longley

James Longley's Gaza Strip (2002) puts the viewer on the streets during a tense time in Gaza. Longley's sensitive camerawork relays sequences of violence and weariness. He shows the sadness when one boy dies from a mine, for example, as well as some startling physical reactions to toxic gas. Longley records the results of bulldozing and shelling by Israeli forces, hearing from people in hospitals and homes. Because there's no voice-over narration, the film doesn't feel dated.

Hubert Sauper

Darwin's Nightmare (2004) by Hubert Sauper is like a disaster movie, non-fiction style. Environmental atrocity in Tanzania accompanies hellish work and conditions for laborers in Lake Victoria fisheries, where aggressive non-native Nile perch have taken over the lake's ecosystem. The film shows a bleak future, but it seems to have been made by outsiders: they have a certain fascination with the local prostitutes, for example, and almost go out of their way to establish extra pessimism. Perhaps such beautiful footage of people-as-victims is more disturbing than informative.

Cindy Meehl

Cindy Meehl's Buck (2011) portrays a professional "horse whisperer" named Buck Brannaman as the real-life counterpoint to the movie version played by Robert Redford (top still: Brannaman at right). Access and editing are the key to the film's effectiveness, and the story is deepened when Meehl implies the parallels between child abuse and the mistreatment of horses. Third still: one of Buck's assistants in the ring is about to be bitten in an alarming scene in the documentary.

Richard Press

Richard Press's Bill Cunningham New York (2010) documents the unnervingly capable photographer, an obsessive workaholic who insists on using film not digital (top still). Cunningham captures images of fashionable people high and low, either on New York City streets or at nighttime parties. Press follows Cunningham riding a bike around town in his blue utility jacket, making a sighting, snapping pictures, and finally readying images for publication in The New York Times. The film shows Cunningham at home and with friends (second still), and interview time goes to his most-photographed subjects, such as Iris Apfel and Anna Wintour. Footage from an earlier documentary adds another dimension to a now well-recognized figure, whereas an inquiry about Cunningham's personal life is hardly necessary.

Johan van der Keuken

Johan van der Keuken's Big Ben: Ben Webster in Europe (1967) portrays the jazz saxophonist at age 58, living in Amsterdam. He plays in clubs, practices at home with a record player, and gets fussed over by his landlady (second still). A process sequence showing a saxophone factory shows van der Keuken's skill as a photographer.

Emile de Antonio

Emile de Antonio's Mr. Hoover and I is a personal and angry bash note to the longtime FBI director. The filmmaker addresses the camera straight on (top still), describing his well-documented grievances against the FBI's seemingly obsessive harassment. The film shows de Antonio getting a haircut (second still), giving a speech, and visiting John Cage in Cage's kitchen (third still). Otherwise, few photos or clips illustrate de Antonio's harangue, and he's at his best with crazy anecdotes about Hoover's reaction to his films Weather Underground, In the Year of the Pig, and Millhouse.

Lars von Trier and Jørgen Leth

Lars von Trier and Jørgen Leth made The Five Obstructions (2003) together as a visual record of the therapeutic value of movie-making. Lars von Trier challenges Leth (middle and bottom stills) to create new versions of Leth's arty 1967 film The Perfect Human (Det perfekte menneske, top still). Von Trier hurls insults and provocation at Leth in an attempt to rouse him out of depression; the audience is a reluctant witness to the two men interacting in a sometimes-creepy set of one-on-one conversations. Leth's gorgeous new versions of The Perfect Human don't deserve the put-downs that von Trier tosses off, but the fun of the movie is waiting for what von Trier will say next.

Les Blank

In Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe (1979), Les Blank documents with relish the fulfillment of a pledge: Werner Herzog promised he would eat his shoe if Errol Morris finished Gates of Heaven (Morris's first film). Les Blank shoots every step of Herzog's process, starting with his arrival in northern California. Herzog cooks the shoe at Chez Panisse, where Alice Waters (top still) helps with the recipe (second still). Later, Herzog eats his boiled shoe in front of a Berkeley audience. Charlie Chaplin's shoe dinner from The Gold Rush (third still) makes an apt counterpoint to Herzog's good-natured chew. The next day, Herzog reflects in a grandly Herzogolicious monologue (last still).

Robert Drew

On the Road with Duke Ellington (1967) by Robert Drew showcases Drew's bravura observational filmmaking style. Unlike more recent music documentaries, this film steers clear of archival footage and photographs in favor of long verite sequences with dated voice-over narration. The day that Duke Ellington received an honorary degree at Yale (third still) is shown at length, for example, while we hear nothing of Ellington's innovative early years and classic recordings. The film leaves an overall impression of a sad and perhaps lonely man, endlessly smoking and feeling underappreciated. Above, Duke Ellington with arranger Billy Strayhorn and Louis Armstrong.