DOC NYC Delivers the Weird, the Wild, and the Profound

New York City’s last major film festival of the fall, DOC NYC (November 12-30; in-person in New York and online across the United States), has — in contrast to some of its grubbier venues — always been one of the city’s brightest: with a slate to die for. Their annual Short List is a major indicator of and precursor to the Academy Awards’ “Best Documentary Film” nomination list. But the magic of the festival lies in its vast lineup, filled with films you’ve never even heard of and might not see for a very long time otherwise (if at all).

While I didn’t have as much time to catch as many documentaries as I had hoped to (the Holiday rush started particularly early this year), the films I did catch were all riveting, unique and worth a recommendation.

My favorite film of the festival, Sveinn Ingimundarson’s and S.D. Saltarelli’s Kings of Venice, is a heartfelt look at community wrapped in a (surprisingly) enrapturing sports documentary. The film follows the people who frequent the 11 paddle tennis courts on California’s Venice Beach. If you’ve ever visited Venice, neither the regulars nor their peculiarities will come as a surprise. Besides being extremely funny (the sequences documenting the paddle players’ feud with pickleballers being the funniest), Kings of Venice is a beautiful and personal look at how communities can come together to save and honor what matters to them. The final 15 minutes of this documentary will keep you on the edge of your seat and clapping, even if you have no idea what paddle tennis is (or how it’s different from pickleball) when entering the theater.

John Dower’s The Balloonists spotlights another sport people might not be aware of: Competitive hot air balloon racing. The documentary’s scope is fairly specific. It follows the journey of navigators Bertrand Piccard and Brian Jones, who, in 1999, won the race to become the first people to circumnavigate the globe via balloon. The 86-minute documentary moves fairly quickly, keeping the story of their journey exciting even if you know exactly how it ends. There’s not that much to take away from the story (mainly, their journey seems insufferable and anxiety-inducing), but it’s a well-delivered example of documentary storytelling as escapism.

Competition reigns in Sara Joe Wolansky’s The Big Cheese; in this case, substitute balloonists for cheesemongers. As someone who, frankly, avoids most cheeses, I wasn’t familiar with the Mondial du Fromage competition ahead of watching this documentary. The film examines competition itself while doubling as a profile of cheese importer Adam Moskowitz, the man leading the United States’ efforts to win at the competition. The film is a somewhat unbalanced yet heartfelt look at this small world of cheese fanatics, and an examination of America’s increasing competitiveness in the cheesemongering sphere. The film is at its strongest when it focuses on the competition itself; above all, it’s exciting to see how people can express their passion for the least common of things.

Speaking of obscure competitions, Christoper Nelius’ Whistle takes viewers right into earshot of the competitive whistling world. Though the subject may differ from Wolansky’s pungent star, it’s incredible how similar the structure of this documentary is to The Big Cheese. Whistle also divides its perspective, spotlighting the Masters of Musical Whistling competition while providing a profile of the event’s founder, Carole Anne Kaufman (aka the Whistling Diva). The film is most successful when it focuses on the competition participants themselves, who explain why they love this distinct form of music so much and what winning the competition would mean to them. Whistle definitely leans into the fascinating strangeness of hearing from people who love and excel at such über-niche fields.

Documentarian Seth Porges has always been interested in the wilder side of American culture and excess (his 2020 documentary, Class Action Park, focused on America’s most dangerous amusement park). This time, he flips his gaze to an event whose name would make any sensible New Yorker shudder: Santacon. What starts as an examination of the December event (where people dress up as Santa and get wildly drunk) quickly morphs into a broader look at American consumerism and advertising culture. At 87 minutes, the documentary occasionally feels redundant and maybe the investigation would work better as a short. Regardless, the level of access Porges has to the event’s creators and first participants is striking and makes this a worthwhile, if somewhat uneven, watch.

Last but certainly not least, Lorena Luciano’s Nuns vs. the Vatican is a sharp and searing look at how the Catholic Church let decades of sexual abuse go unpunished, despite so much evidence from women across the Church dating back to the 1980s. The 91-minute film is extremely difficult and frustrating to watch on account of its horrifying subject, especially as Church leadership does virtually nothing to punish the clearly guilty perpetrators. Regardless, Luciano’s film is a testament to the bravery of these women to step forward, share their stories and fight for justice. The documentary’s simple format, featuring mainly interviews and archival footage, isn’t a standout, but the power of the story alone is enough to make this film worth recommending.