Sunday afternoons have their own particular quality of light and stillness. The right film slots into that feeling perfectly - unhurried, absorbing, a reason to stay on the sofa a little longer.
Looking back, the 2000s were a golden era for this kind of filmmaking - studios still willing to fund serious work, directors still pushing at the edges of what was expected.
Documentaries work when they trust their subjects. The best ones get out of the way and let reality speak.
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.
A film that makes you think for days has done something rare: it's trusted you to do the work. These films trust you.
The best documentaries don't resolve neatly. They give you something to carry. These do that.