There's a particular kind of film for a rainy night alone - absorbing enough to pull you fully in, good enough that you don't check your phone once.
Go back far enough and you find films that had no idea they'd become classics. The 80s and 90s produced more of them than any other era.
A great documentary finds the universal in the specific. One person's story becomes everyone's story.
An intimate look at America's favourite neighbor and the life, lessons, and legacy of Fred Rogers.
Follow Alex Honnold as he attempts to become the first person to ever free solo climb Yosemite's El Capitan.
An in-depth look at the US prison system and how it reveals the nation's history of racial inequality.
Two South Africans set out to discover what happened to their musical hero, the mysterious 1970s rock musician Rodriguez.
What makes a documentary essential viewing is specificity. These films don't deal in generalities - they follow real people making impossible choices in real moments.
A look at tightrope walker Philippe Petit's daring, and illegal, high-wire routine performed between the World Trade Center's twin towers in 1974.
When Bryan Fogel sets out to uncover the truth about doping in sports, a chance meeting with a Russian scientist transforms his project into a geopolitical thriller.
A documentary about the 1965-66 Indonesian mass killings, in which former paramilitary leaders re-enact their crimes.
Backup singers discuss their careers and relationships with the stars they support.
Michael Moore explores the culture of guns and violence in the United States.
The films that give you a good cry do so because they've earned it. Not through sadness alone - through care. These films care.
The best documentaries don't resolve neatly. They give you something to carry. These do that.