A cleaning crew has its work cut out for it in Alex Lora and Antonio Tibaldi’s THY FATHER’S CHAIR
THY FATHER’S CHAIR (Alex Lora & Antonio Tibaldi, 2015) Cinépolis Chelsea
260 West Twenty-Third St. at Eighth Ave.
Sunday, November 13, $16-$18, 5:15
212-691-5519 www.docnyc.net
Directors Antonio Tibaldi and Alex Lora put the viewer right in the middle of twin brothers Abraham and Schrag’s desperately crowded and traumatic situation in the compulsively watchable observational documentary Thy Father’s Chair. After their parents died, the slovenly, unmarried Jewish scholars just plain stopped cleaning up after themselves, allowing newspapers, magazines, food, garbage, kitty litter, and myriad other items to pile up around them. They were not collectors hoarding valuable possessions or personal mementos; they were simply unable to organize anything or throw stuff away in their Brooklyn apartment. Only when their upstairs tenant stopped paying rent in protest, demanding they clean their place — the tenants had to deal not only with bad odors from the brothers’ apartment but with vermin as well — do they seek out assistance, hiring an Israeli man named Hanan of Home Clean Home to come and make their apartment safe and livable again. But it’s no easy task, as Abraham watches Hanan and his hazmat-suited team very carefully, continually trying to talk them out of tossing away certain items HCH insists must go; meanwhile, Schrag just moans on and on as he downs bottles of wine. (One of the only ways to tell the identical twins apart is by the wine stains on Schrag’s white shirt.) “What the hell! Nobody’s helping me,” Abraham cries out. “We are here to help you!” Hanan says. “You’re not going to help me. You’re going to tell me what to do,” Abraham replies. Later, Abraham tells Hanan, “What is it, a punishment?” Hanan responds, “It’s not punishment. I’m trying to help you; you’re not working with me.” Abraham just can’t bear to get rid of what is clearly mostly junk and garbage, including vastly outdated electronic equipment and canned food. The only item that the brothers search for that is indeed worth keeping is their megillah scroll, but that is the exception. Abraham also agonizes over his father’s favorite chair, not wanting Hanan to take it yet debating whether he is even worthy enough to sit in it. “The Torah wants everything to be clean, but unfortunately we veered from it,” he concedes. The brothers actually do understand what is going on, that their hoarding is patently absurd and dangerous, but they are powerless to stop it.
Documentary focuses on Brooklyn twin brothers who have serious hoarding problem
Director and cinematographer Tibaldi and director and editor Lora cast no judgment on the two men; the filmmakers work, much like the Maysles brothers did, like flies on the wall, recording the crazy things going on in this railroad apartment in Midwood for eight days. Complicating matters, Tibaldi couldn’t always get the kinds of shots he wanted, as he was physically limited as to where he could stand because of the mounds of filth. There’s no back story; we find out almost nothing about who Abraham and Schrag are and what they have done with their lives, what their hopes and dreams might have been, other than what little they reveal of themselves onscreen, which is dominated by an overwhelming fear of things being taken away from them. There are also no talking heads offering expert opinions or psychological evaluations about the brothers and their situation. Both melancholic and absurdly funny, the twins’ predicament is sort of what would happen if the Beale women of Grey Gardens had mated with Homer Lusk Collyer and Langley Wakeman Collyer, the famous hoarding brothers who died less than two weeks apart in their Harlem brownstone, no longer able to survive their suffocating surroundings. Bjarke Kolerus and Simon Don Eriksen’s gentle music also doesn’t comment on the ridiculousness of it all, instead treating it with understanding. “I feel sorry and sad to see you sad,” Hannan tells Abraham, who replies, “I feel bad about the stuff that’s being thrown out, but it has to be done,” trying to convince himself that it’s all going to be okay. The Father’s Chair, which is dedicated to Chantal Akerman, is screening November 13 at 5:15 at Cinépolis Chelsea, with Lora and Tibaldi participating in a Q&A afterward. DOC NYC runs November 10-17 at IFC Center, the SVA Theatre, and Cinépolis Chelsea, consisting of more than two hundred films, workshops, panel discussions, and other events, the largest nonfiction festival in the world.
In such works as She Kills Monsters, Six Rounds of Vengeance, Alice in Slasherland, Aliens versus Cheerleaders, and Living Dead in Denmark, Arizona-born Vietnamese American playwright and screenwriter Qui Nguyen brings a fresh perspective to the stage, incorporating martial arts, horror, and irreverent humor within a comic-book sensibility. (He’s also a writer for Marvel Studios and founder of the New York-based Vampire Cowboys troupe.) He gets more serious, but no less wild, in his latest drama, Vietgone, a semiautobiographical look at the Vietnam War inspired by his family’s real experiences. “All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental,” the playwright (Paco Tolson) announces to the audience at the very beginning. “That especially goes for any person or persons who could be related to the playwright. Specifically his parents. Who this play is absolutely not about. Seriously, if any of you peeps repeat or retweet anything you’ve seen to my folks tonight, you’re assholes.” Nguyen and director May Adrales then tell the story of “a completely made-up man named Quang” (Raymond Lee), a former South Vietnamese soldier who is living in a refugee camp at the Fort Chaffee military base in Arkansas. A married man with two children he has not seen in several years, Quang is trying to get out of America and go back to Vietnam to be with them. “In Saigon / City in Vietnam / Shot up by the Viet Cong / They stole my peep’s freedom / so I’m coming to kill them / Call me their arch villain / Can’t stop me I’m willin’ / to die for this vision / Of a Vietnam that’s free / from those evil VC,” he raps. “You can’t stop me / I’m like a pissed off Bruce Lee / With a hi-ya, a kick, and a kung fu grip / We’ll come out swinging / We don’t give no shits.”
The cast of Qui Nguyen’s VIETGONE struts its stuff in Manhattan Theatre Club production at City Center (photo by Carol Rosegg)
Quang is heading to California on a motorcycle with his friend Nhan (Jon Hoche), where they’ll catch a flight home. The time shifts between April and July 1975, as Quang and Nhan get out during the fall of Saigon and Quang develops a sexual relationship at Fort Chaffee with the cold and carefree Tong (Jennifer Ikeda), despite the protests of her grandmother, Huong (Samantha Quan). But through it all, Quang just wants to reunite with his family. “We don’t belong here. We belong there,” he tells Nhan. “There, we’re heroes. We’re sons. We’re men. There, we count for something. Here, however, we ain’t shit.” On their travels, they encounter a hippie dude (Tolson), a flower girl (Quan), and a redneck biker (Tolson); meanwhile, flashbacks reveal the tough decisions Tong had to make when she chose to leave Vietnam for America. “The communists are going to be rolling into our streets any day now with the mind to make dead all of us who aren’t waving red flags and you’re going to stick around to get riddled with bullets?” she says to her brother, who won’t leave his girlfriend. “I’m not going to let you die here. I can’t. I can’t. That would destroy me. It would absolutely destroy me.” Quang and Tong might be sleeping together in America, but they are both after something they may not be able to find again.
Quang (Raymond Lee) and Tong (Jennifer Ikeda) have something to celebrate while Tong’s unhappy grandmother (Samantha Quan) looks on (photo by Carol Rosegg)
A production of Manhattan Theatre Club in association with South Coast Repertory, where the play debuted, Vietgone turns genre clichés inside out while toying with stereotypes, including who speaks with what accent. Passionately directed by Adrales with a frenetic warmth, the hip-hop immigrant tale — with a sweet nod to Hamilton — is colorful and energetic, taking place on Tim Mackabee’s impressive set, featuring a giant billboard, a horizon backdrop, and tiny telephone poles that represent the American road, creatively lit by Justin Townsend. Jared Mezzocchi’s projections, including graphic-novel-like drawings, set the time and the tone; the scene in which Quang and Nhan race for the helicopter to escape Saigon is absolutely breathtaking. Lee (tokyo fish story, Four Clowns) and Ikeda (Love and Information, Marie Antoinette) have a strong chemistry, while Vampire Cowboys artistic associate Hoche (Soul Samurai, The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G), Quan (Masha No Home, An Infinite Ache), and longtime Nguyen collaborator Tolson (Fight Girl Battle World, Men of Steel) have a ball in multiple roles. The play is not as polished as it could be; several moments could be tightened up, and its clever but unusual storytelling techniques are not for everyone, obviously, as a chunk of older people left at intermission. But they should have stuck it out, as the rest of us did, who were caught up in this compelling love story about home that is both funny and moving, historical and contemporary, given the current debate over immigrants and refugees from around the world.
Madeleine Gavin’s CITY OF JOY reveals how a small group of dedicated activists help turn tragedy into empowerment in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo
Madeleine Gavin’s debut feature, City of Joy, is as heartbreaking as it is uplifting, as shocking as it is life affirming. Ever since the two Congo civil wars of the 1990s, rape has been used as a horrific military tactic in the country; hundreds of thousands of women and children have been and continue to be attacked repeatedly by members of militias who are attempting to gain access to the country’s rich mineral resources, including coltan, tin, tungsten, and gold, which are much sought after by global corporations. In 2007, gynecologist/obstetrician Dr. Denis Mukwege, activist Christine Schuler-Deschryver, and playwright Eve Ensler cofounded the City of Joy, a securely walled and guarded safe space in Bukavu in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo where survivors of rape and sexual violence come to get their life back, learning to reclaim control of their bodies and their minds. “My sisters, you will change the suffering you’ve endured into power,” Schuler-Deschryver declared at the official opening in 2011. Elegantly photographed by Taylor Krauss and Lisa Rinzler, highlighting the spectacular beauty of the area and the bright, colorful outfits worn by the women, the film focuses on several of the survivors’ horrific tales and how they are overcoming their fears. Ensler, author of The Vagina Monologues and Necessary Targets, explains, “The magnitude of the stories were beyond anything I had ever heard in my life.” Indeed, the women’s accounts are extremely difficult to listen to, but that’s part of the healing process for everyone. “When all women are free, that’s when you stop talking,” Ensler tells them, encouraging them to say the word “vagina” and to become more familiar with a part of their anatomy they should not fear. “I went to bed with no worries. We were at peace. No reason to be afraid. But one day everything changed, and I ended up in a place I never thought I’d be,” Jane Mukunila says of her brutal torture. Her transition is a centerpiece of the film.
Survivors come together to turn tragedy into hope in CITY OF JOY
“City of Joy was established as a center for survivors of rape and gender violence in the DRC,” program manager Mama Bachu Bahati reads from the organization’s mission statement. “The goal is to transform these women into leaders.” Risking their own personal safety, Dr. Mukwege, Schuler-Deschryver, Mama Bachu Bahati, self-defense instructors Duncan Bomba and Winnie Anyango, and others seek to empower these women to build strong new communities as they graduate from the program and reenter the world. “I think this love, this desire to fight for others, even when things for you have been completely destroyed, I believe that is the story of the struggle of the Congolese woman,” says the doctor, who has treated more than forty thousand women at Panzi Hospital. Gavin also edited the film, which boasts an outstanding soundtrack, with a score by Tomandandy and songs by Lokua Kanza, Geoffrey Oryema, and Papa Wemba to more fully immerse viewers in Congolese culture. Exhilarating and terrifying, City of Joy is a brutally honest and intensely important film, one that demands that nations such as the United States take action and put an end to the use of rape as a military weapon. The film is having its world premiere at DOC NYC on November 11 at 7:00 at the SVA Theatre, with Gavin, Ensler, Dr. Mukwege, Mukunila, and Schuler-Deschryver participating in an extended conversation afterward. DOC NYC runs November 10-17 at IFC Center, the SVA Theatre, and Cinépolis Chelsea, consisting of more than two hundred films, workshops, panel discussions, and other events, the largest nonfiction festival in the world.
The Pershing Square Signature Center
The Irene Diamond Stage
480 West 42nd St. between Tenth & Eleventh Aves.
Tuesday-Sunday through December 4, $30-$50
212-244-7529 www.signaturetheatre.org
South African playwright Athol Fugard revisits a painful part of his past in the Signature Theatre revival of his 1982 success, “Master Harold” . . . and the boys. Inspired by an actual event that continues to cause him shame, the play is set in St. George’s Park Tea Room in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, in 1950, just two years after Apartheid began. It’s a rainy afternoon, and the dapper Sam (Leon Addison Brown) is keeping watch on the empty restaurant while Willie (Sahr Ngaujah) cleans up. They discuss an upcoming ballroom dance competition, as the smooth-moving Sam offers advice to the stiff, distracted Willie. Sam tells him, “The secret is to make it look easy. Ballroom must look happy, Willie, not like hard work. It must . . . Ja! . . . it must look like romance.” Willie responds, “Now another one! What’s romance?” to which Sam answers, “Love story with happy ending. A handsome man in tails, and in his arms, smiling at him, a beautiful lady in evening dress!” They are soon joined by Hally (Noah Robbins), the seventeen-year-old son of the white family they work for as servants. While Willie calls the boy “Master Harold,” Sam refers to him as the more familiar Hally; the two are very close, and Sam is a kind of surrogate father to Hally, since the white boy’s real father is an alcoholic who has been hospitalized. Hally relates how he was beaten by his teacher at school that day, and Sam compares it to getting “strokes with a light cane” in prison. Hally dreams that things will get better. “I oscillate between hope and despair for this world as well, Sam. But things will change, you wait and see,” he says. “One day somebody is going to get up and give history a kick up the backside and get it going again.” Sam asks, “Like who?” Hally replies, “They’re called social reformers. Every age, Sam, has got its social reformer. My history book is full of them.” And Sam answers, “So where’s ours?” Meanwhile, Hally teaches Sam about history and language, discussing Winston Churchill, Napoleon, Charles Darwin, Abraham Lincoln, and William Shakespeare. “Vestiges, feudal system, and abolished. I’m all right on oppression,” Sam says, pointing out some words he doesn’t quite understand, in addition to one he does, all too well. But after Hally gets a call from his mother with news about his father, the relationship between Sam and Hally takes a nasty turn.
“Master Harold” . . . and the boys premiered at Yale in 1982 — it was initially banned in South Africa — with Željko Ivanek as Hally, Zakes Mokae as Sam, and Danny Glover as Willie; it then moved to Broadway with Mokae, Glover, and Lonny Price taking over as Hally, earning a Drama Desk Award as Outstanding New Play. In the 2003 Broadway revival, Christopher Denham was Hally, Michael Boatman was Willie, and Glover played Sam. The new Signature version, directed by the eighty-four-year-old Fugard, is superb in all respects. Christopher H. Barreca’s tea-room set has a lurking coldness, the rain outside threatening a coming storm inside as well. Brown (The Trip to Bountiful, Two Trains Running), who has appeared in two previous Fugard productions at the Signature, is outstanding as the refined and poised Sam, who only wants everyone to be happy and to better his own situation in life, while Ngaujah (Fela!) is effective as his comic foil, a black man who seems content to stay where he is, not rocking any boats. Robbins (Brighton Beach Memoirs, Punk Rock) simmers to a slow boil as Hally, Fugard’s alter-ego — the writer’s real name is Harold Athol Lanigan Fugard, there really was a Sam and Willie, and his mother did run the St. George’s Park Tea Room — leading to an explosive, powerful conclusion. “Master Harold” . . . and the boys is part of the Signature’s Legacy Program; four years ago, Fugard was the inaugural Residency One playwright at their new home, reviving Blood Knot and My Children! My Africa! in addition to premiering The Train Driver and The Painted Rocks at Revolver Creek. Fugard and the Signature have brought back “Master Harold” . . . and the boys at an opportune moment, with America in the midst of a presidential election rife with heated arguments over class, race, gender, education, immigration, and the unequal distribution of wealth. Fugard writes and directs with such skill, and with such subtlety, that the play works in many contexts, relating to discrimination of all kinds everywhere, even when it’s a deeply personal tale story that still haunts him today. (There will be a discussion with dialect coach Barbara Rubin prior to the November 9 show, post-show talkbacks with members of the cast and creative team will follow the November 10, 15, and 22 performances, and the Signature Book Club will delve into Fugard’s Cousins: A Memoir on December 1 at 7:30.)
DJ Donwill and Wyatt Cenac will be yelling at blaxploitation films at Alamo Drafthouse on November 10 & 17
Alamo Drafthouse Downtown Brooklyn
445 Albee Square West
Thursday, November 10 & 17, $15, 9:35
718-513-2547 drafthouse.com
In a 2007 episode of Scrubs, J.D. (Zach Braff) and Chris (Donald Faison) discuss the stereotype of black families yelling at movie screens. Many people don’t want talking of any kind in theaters, while others just go with the flow. Comedian Wyatt Cenac (The Daily Show, Night Train) and comedic MC Donwill have been enjoying the concept at their monthly “Shouting at the Screen” events, which are back in town, taking place at the new Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn. On November 10 and 17, Cenac and Donwill will “re-create the magic of Magic Johnson theaters” in a kind of alternative MST3K while watching blaxploitation and black cult films. There will also be trivia questions and drinking games. Be prepared to shout along with everyone else, conventional cinema etiquette be damned.
DOC NYC continues its rapid growth with a wide-ranging schedule for its seventh year, featuring more than two hundred film screenings, workshops, university showcases, panel discussions, master classes, Q&As, and more. The festival of nonfiction film runs November 10-17 at IFC Center, the SVA Theatre, and Cinépolis Chelsea, with tickets ranging from $10 to $30. (Badges are necessary to attend “Short List Day,” “Documentary & Journalism Day,” “Smart Producing Day,” “Pitch Perfect Day,” and “Show Me the Money Day” events.) Among the many highlights are documentaries about David Lynch, Jane Jacobs, John Coltrane, Fred Hersch, Ken Loach, Sharon Jones, Robert Mapplethorpe, L7, and Tony Conrad as well as such topics as gender identity, abortion, religion, human rights, the ivory trade, African American journalism, disabilities, guns, food, and O.J. The impressive list of directors includes Werner Herzog, Barbara Kopple, Stanley Nelson, Katy Grannan, Raoul Peck, Ava DuVernay, Kirk Simon, and Kirsten Johnson. Below is a look at three festival films that have previously played in New York City and have been reviewed on twi-ny. Keep watching for more reviews as the festival approaches and gets under way.
NFL hero Steve Gleason takes a new look at life after being diagnosed with ALS
GLEASON (Clay Tweel, 2016)
Thursday, November 10, Cinépolis Chelsea, 6:00
Thursday, November 17, Cinépolis Chelsea, 11:45 gleasonmovie.com
“It’s not gonna be easy but it’s gonna be awesome,” Steve Gleason promises his unborn child in the extraordinary documentary Gleason, a heartbreaking yet uplifting tale about dedication, family, and never giving up. On September 26, 2006, scrappy New Orleans safety and special teams stalwart Gleason became an all-time inspirational Saints hero when, on Monday Night Football, he blocked Atlanta Falcon Michael Koenen’s punt less than a minute and a half into the Saints’ first home game in the Superdome following the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina the previous summer. The play, which resulted in a touchdown when the ball was recovered by Curtis DeLoatch in the end zone, has been memorialized with a statue titled “Rebirth” in front of the stadium. But Gleason became a different kind of hero five years later when the undrafted free agent was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), better known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, a generally fatal neuromuscular disease. Right after that, the Washington State native, who at the age of thirty-four was given three to five years to live, found out that his wife, artist and free spirit Michel Varisco, was pregnant with their first child, a boy. Determined to pass on as much of a legacy as he could to his unborn baby, Gleason began a vlog, a series of deeply personal five-minute videos in which he spoke openly and honestly about how they would never have the traditional father-son relationship but he wanted the boy to know that he was loved and cherished. But that is only the beginning of an incredible story that is poignantly told in Gleason.
Directed and edited by Clay Tweel (Make Believe, Print the Legend), the film features powerful clips from Gleason’s video journal; intimate footage shot by Ty Minton-Small and David Lee, who lived with Gleason, Varisco, and their son, Rivers, for two years; and interviews with family members and friends as Gleason’s physical conditions worsens but his heart and will grow stronger. “People will say, ‘Oh, it’s such a sad, tragic story,’ Gleason explains in the film. “It is sad, and so they’re right, but it’s not all sad. I think there is more in my future than in my past.” Gleason, with Michel’s father, Paul Varisco, form Team Gleason, a grass-roots nonprofit organization dedicated to helping people with ALS have a better quality of life, taking them on adventure vacations and giving them access to cutting-edge technology that increases their ability to communicate as the disease destroys their speech and movement. Among Steve’s famous friends and supporters are Saints quarterback Drew Brees and his wife, Brittany, and Pearl Jam guitarist Mike McCready and singer Eddie Vedder. Steve and Michel hold nothing back, sharing their deepest fears and insecurities while his condition deteriorates. As he tries to get the most out of his limited time with Rivers, Gleason also reexamines his troubled relationship with his father, Mike, a born-again Christian who is often at odds with his son. The real superstar of the film, however, is the brave and courageous Michel, who devotes her life to her husband and son despite increasing difficulties. In a statement about the film, Michel said, “I hope people who need a good laugh or a heavy cry can get that from this film. I hope people who need to be reminded to love their kids or their friends can get that from this movie. I hope people with ALS who want to use this film to show others what their lives really are like can get that from this movie. I hope people who have strained relationships with their parents will want to work on those relationships after they watch this movie. I hope people who have wanted to do something great in life will go ahead and do it after seeing this movie. People have told me that they have gotten all of these things from watching Gleason. And I think that’s pretty awesome.” Gleason, which is not always easy to watch, achieves all that and more, and indeed, that’s pretty awesome. The Sundance hit will be at DOC NYC on November 10 and 17, with Tweel and Michel Varisco participating in a Q&A after the first screening. Tweel will also take part in the panel discussion “Short List Day: Character Studies” on November 11 at 12 noon.
The colorful Anthony Weiner marches in the Gay Pride Parade as he runs for mayor in 2013, a bright future potentially ahead of him
WEINER (Josh Kriegman & Elyse Steinberg, 2016)
Monday, November 14, Cinépolis Chelsea, 3:45
Tuesday, November 15, Cinépolis Chelsea, 9:45 www.ifcfilms.com
Near the end of Weiner, one of the most revealing and entertaining documentaries about a political figure you’re ever likely to see, one of the directors, Josh Kriegman, asks subject extraordinaire Anthony Weiner, “Why have you let me film this?” It’s a great question, and one that can be inquired of Weiner’s wife as well, Huma Abedin, who stands alongside her scandal-ridden husband nearly every step of the way. (Of course, the film was made prior to the most recent scandal, which led to the dissolution of their marriage.) In May 2011, during his seventh term as a fierce, fiery congressman representing parts of Brooklyn and Queens, Weiner was forced to resign in disgrace after it was discovered that he had sent lewd pictures of himself to several women over a public social media account while lying about it as well. Just two years later, the Brooklyn-born Weiner decided to get back in the game, running for mayor of New York City. Kriegman, who was a senior aide to Weiner in 2004-5 and his New York chief of staff in 2005-6, thought the comeback campaign would make a fascinating story, and Weiner agreed, giving him virtually unlimited access to his family and staffers. Initially, everything is going better than expected: Weiner is leading in the polls and getting his message across. But then the sexting scandal rises up again, and it all starts falling apart. Weiner tries hard to fight the good fight, concentrating on communicating his political platform, but the media only wants to ask him and his brave wife about the sexting, even when it is clear that the people of New York City prefer to talk about the issues. “I guess the punch line is true about me. I did the things . . . but I did a lot of other things too,” Weiner acknowledges. Of course, maybe Weiner never really had a fair chance. The movie begins with a telling quote from Marshall McLuhan: “The name of a man is a numbing blow from which he never recovers.”
Yet another texting scandal forces Anthony Weiner to reconsider his options under media scrutiny
PBS and MTV veterans Kriegman and codirector Elyse Steinberg amassed more than four hundred hours of footage for their feature debut, and very rarely does Weiner or Abedin shut them out, even when things appear to hit rock bottom. Kriegman focuses his camera on Weiner, who doesn’t flinch as he considers all his options and, all too often, takes the wrong path, whether it’s getting angry with a patron in a Jewish deli or arguing with Lawrence O’Donnell on a videolink interview. Weiner continually performs self-defeating acts that Abedin, a longtime Hillary Clinton supporter who is now vice chairwoman of the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee’s campaign, gracefully and painfully points out to him, but she sticks with her husband and his campaign to the bitter end. Kriegman and Steinberg show Weiner hanging out at home, walking around barefoot, and playing with son Jordan, who was born in December 2011. But it’s truly heartbreaking when the directors zero in on Abedin’s forlorn face as the scandal grows and grows and the media has a field day with it. Weiner is seamlessly edited by Eli Despres (Blackfish, Red Army), who keeps the tension high even when we know what is coming, as the narrative plays out like a unique kind of political thriller. It’s impossible to take your eyes off the screen, to stop watching Weiner and Abedin as they have to deal with his dirty laundry in public. In addition to allowing Kriegman and Steinberg to follow him everywhere, the usually charismatic Weiner is decidedly dour as he sits down for a candid wraparound interview with the filmmakers. “Shit. This is the worst. This is the worst. Doing a documentary on my scandal,” Weiner opines at one point, displaying a rare moment of genuine regret as opposed to his usual hubris. But the film, which makes no judgments — and which Weiner and Abedin have refused to see so far — is as much about the relationship between media and politics as it is about one specific politician who made some personal mistakes, and it does not bode well for our future. Will Weiner ever be able to stage another comeback? He’s a determined guy, almost to the point of obsession, with a deep desire to help the people of New York City and the country, but then there’s that name, and the photos he posted, and the strange faces that he makes, so a third chance might just be one too many. A most human drama that won the U.S. Grand Jury Documentary Prize at Sundance, the extraordinary Weiner will be shown at DOC NYC on November 14 and 15 at Cinépolis Chelsea. In addition, Kriegman and Steinberg will discuss the making of the film in the special programs “First Time Doc Maker Day: Morning Manifesto” on November 10 at 10:00 am and “Short List Day: Unfolding Stories” on November 11 at 10:30 am. By then we’ll know how much Abedin’s emails found on Weiner’s laptop impacted the 2016 presidential election.
Sharon Jones is nervous about returning to the stage after tough cancer battle in Barbara Kopple’s intimate, affecting documentary
MISS SHARON JONES! (Barbara Kopple, 2015)
Wednesday, November 16, Cinépolis Chelsea, 5:00
Thursday, November 17, Cinépolis Chelsea, 9:45 sharonjonesandthedapkings.com
“I feel my day is coming, it’s my time,” soul singer extraordinaire Sharon Jones is shown saying at the beginning of Barbara Kopple’s touching and intimate documentary, Miss Sharon Jones! But that was before the former wedding singer and Rikers Island corrections officer, who was born in 1958 in North Augusta, South Carolina, raised in Brooklyn, and later lived in Queens, was diagnosed in June 2013 with stage two pancreatic cancer. Jones, who has been called the female James Brown — she tells a story in the film about the time she met the Godfather of Soul — allows the Oscar-winning Kopple (Shut Up & Sing, Harlan County, USA) remarkable access as she cuts off her trademark locks and chooses a wig, undergoes painful chemotherapy, is cared for by her close friend and holistic nutritionist Megan Holken, and visits her old stomping grounds in Augusta, Georgia. Jones shares her thoughts about her future, feeling responsible for the financial well-being of her longtime band, the Dap-Kings. “First and foremost, we’re a family,” Daptone Records cofounder and saxophonist Neal Sugarman says. In fact, “family” is a word that pops up often in the film when people describe their relationship with Jones, who has never married and has no children. Among those who talk about Jones, her amazing talent, and her fight with cancer are her oncologist, Dr. James Leonardo; her manager, Alex Kadvan, who is with her every step of the way; her assistant manager Austen Holman, who tries not to break down on camera; Daptone Records cofounder and bassist Gabe Roth; guitarist Binky Griptite, who is up front about his financial troubles while the band is on hiatus; drummer Homer Steinweiss; and Dapettes Starr Duncan Lowe and Saundra Williams.
Sharon Jones, the female James Brown, takes the stage in Barbara Kopple’s MISS SHARON JONES!
Jones is a fiery dynamo onstage, pounding the floor in her bare feet, shaking her dreads wildly, a relentless performer in a compact package. (We’ve seen Miss Jones perform numerous times, including with Prince at Madison Square Garden, and Kopple does a masterful job capturing Jones’s infectious passion and energy.) She proves herself to be quite the character offstage as well, an unpredictable force who is at ease lighting up a cigar while fishing in a lake, not embarrassed to admit that her dream is to dance on Ellen with Ellen DeGeneres, and lifted by the power when delivering an awe-inspiring rendition of the Gospel standard “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” in a Queens church. Of course, the film is filled with lots of great music, all originals by Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, including “I Learned the Hard Way,” “Get Up and Get Out,” “Longer & Stronger,” “I’ll Still Be True,” and “100 Days, 100 Nights.” As the chemotherapy nears its conclusion, Jones, itching to return to the stage, wonders whether she’ll be strong enough to go back out on tour behind their latest record, the aptly titled Give the People What They Want.After seeing the film, Jones posted on social media, “I never thought I had a story, but Barbara Kopple and her team captured a beautiful one during the most difficult months of my life. They were able to make the difficulty in what I went through mean a lot. You see a part of life I never would have looked at and it was moving for me to be able to see all the people it affected.” Miss Sharon Jones! is indeed a moving, deeply affecting film. It is playing at DOC NYC on November 16 and 17, with Kopple and coproducer David Cassidy participating in Q&As after the screenings. Kopple will also take part in the panel discussion “Short List Day: Character Studies” on November 11 at 12 noon.
Artists will respond publicly to Zoe Leonard’s “I want a president” on the High Line (photo by Timothy Schenck)
Who: Eileen Myles, Justin Vivian Bond, Sharon Hayes, Pamela Sneed, Wu Tsang, Fred Moten, Nath Ann Carrera, Morgan Bassichis, Mel Elberg, Malik Gaines, Alexandro Segade, Layli Long Soldier What: Artists respond to Zoe Leonard’s “I want a president” Where: The High Line, Chelsea Market Passage, Little West Twelfth St. When: Sunday, November 6, free with advance RSVP, 1:00 – 3:30 Why: In 1992, as Bill Clinton was battling incumbent George H. W. Bush for the presidency of the United States of America, artist Zoe Leonard delivered a passionate declaration about what kind of a leader she was hoping would take on the most powerful job in the world, a person who has experienced the trials and tribulations that everyone does. Her treatise began, “I want a dyke for president. I want a person with aids for president and I want a fag for vice president and I want someone with no health insurance and I want someone who grew up in a place where the earth is so saturated with toxic waste that they didn’t have a choice about getting leukemia. I want a president that had an abortion at sixteen and I want a candidate who isn’t the lesser of two evils. . . .” Now, just two days before America goes to the polls to vote in the most contentious presidential election in history, a group of fellow artists will come together on the High Line, under a large-scale version of Leonard’s typed letter with cross-outs, sharing their thoughts and ideas in response to the proclamation. “I am interested in the space this text opens up for us to imagine and voice what we want in our leaders, and even beyond that, what we can envision for the future of our society,” Leonard said in a statement. “I still think that speaking up is itself a vital and powerful political act.” From 1:00 to 3:30, Sharon Hayes, Fred Moten, Wu Tsang, Morgan Bassichis, Mel Elberg, Malik Gaines and Alexandro Segade, Layli Long Soldier, Pamela Sneed, Eileen Myles, and Justin Vivian Bond and Nath Ann Carrera will get their turn at the bully pulpit for special readings and performances. (Myles, who ran for president in 1992 as an independent, is scheduled to go on at 3:00.) Leonard’s commissioned work, displayed on the western pillar of the Standard, will remain on view through November 17. Admission is free with advance RSVP.
Directors Antonio Tibaldi and Alex Lora put the viewer right in the middle of twin brothers Abraham and Schrag’s desperately crowded and traumatic situation in the compulsively watchable observational documentary Thy Father’s Chair. After their parents died, the slovenly, unmarried Jewish scholars just plain stopped cleaning up after themselves, allowing newspapers, magazines, food, garbage, kitty litter, and myriad other items to pile up around them. They were not collectors hoarding valuable possessions or personal mementos; they were simply unable to organize anything or throw stuff away in their Brooklyn apartment. Only when their upstairs tenant stopped paying rent in protest, demanding they clean their place — the tenants had to deal not only with bad odors from the brothers’ apartment but with vermin as well — do they seek out assistance, hiring an Israeli man named Hanan of Home Clean Home to come and make their apartment safe and livable again. But it’s no easy task, as Abraham watches Hanan and his hazmat-suited team very carefully, continually trying to talk them out of tossing away certain items HCH insists must go; meanwhile, Schrag just moans on and on as he downs bottles of wine. (One of the only ways to tell the identical twins apart is by the wine stains on Schrag’s white shirt.) “What the hell! Nobody’s helping me,” Abraham cries out. “We are here to help you!” Hanan says. “You’re not going to help me. You’re going to tell me what to do,” Abraham replies. Later, Abraham tells Hanan, “What is it, a punishment?” Hanan responds, “It’s not punishment. I’m trying to help you; you’re not working with me.” Abraham just can’t bear to get rid of what is clearly mostly junk and garbage, including vastly outdated electronic equipment and canned food. The only item that the brothers search for that is indeed worth keeping is their megillah scroll, but that is the exception. Abraham also agonizes over his father’s favorite chair, not wanting Hanan to take it yet debating whether he is even worthy enough to sit in it. “The Torah wants everything to be clean, but unfortunately we veered from it,” he concedes. The brothers actually do understand what is going on, that their hoarding is patently absurd and dangerous, but they are powerless to stop it.
Madeleine Gavin’s debut feature, City of Joy, is as heartbreaking as it is uplifting, as shocking as it is life affirming. Ever since the two Congo civil wars of the 1990s, rape has been used as a horrific military tactic in the country; hundreds of thousands of women and children have been and continue to be attacked repeatedly by members of militias who are attempting to gain access to the country’s rich mineral resources, including coltan, tin, tungsten, and gold, which are much sought after by global corporations. In 2007, gynecologist/obstetrician Dr. Denis Mukwege, activist Christine Schuler-Deschryver, and playwright Eve Ensler cofounded the 
“It’s not gonna be easy but it’s gonna be awesome,” Steve Gleason promises his unborn child in the extraordinary documentary Gleason, a heartbreaking yet uplifting tale about dedication, family, and never giving up. On September 26, 2006, scrappy New Orleans safety and special teams stalwart Gleason became an all-time inspirational Saints hero when, on Monday Night Football, he blocked Atlanta Falcon Michael Koenen’s punt less than a minute and a half into the Saints’ first home game in the Superdome following the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina the previous summer. 
“I feel my day is coming, it’s my time,” soul singer extraordinaire Sharon Jones is shown saying at the beginning of Barbara Kopple’s touching and intimate documentary, Miss Sharon Jones! But that was before the former wedding singer and Rikers Island corrections officer, who was born in 1958 in North Augusta, South Carolina, raised in Brooklyn, and later lived in Queens, was diagnosed in June 2013 with stage two pancreatic cancer. Jones, who has been called the female James Brown — she tells a story in the film about the time she met the Godfather of Soul — allows the Oscar-winning Kopple (Shut Up & Sing, Harlan County, USA) remarkable access as she cuts off her trademark locks and chooses a wig, undergoes painful chemotherapy, is cared for by her close friend and holistic nutritionist Megan Holken, and visits her old stomping grounds in Augusta, Georgia. Jones shares her thoughts about her future, feeling responsible for the financial well-being of her longtime band, the Dap-Kings. “First and foremost, we’re a family,” Daptone Records cofounder and saxophonist Neal Sugarman says. In fact, “family” is a word that pops up often in the film when people describe their relationship with Jones, who has never married and has no children. Among those who talk about Jones, her amazing talent, and her fight with cancer are her oncologist, Dr. James Leonardo; her manager, Alex Kadvan, who is with her every step of the way; her assistant manager Austen Holman, who tries not to break down on camera; Daptone Records cofounder and bassist Gabe Roth; guitarist Binky Griptite, who is up front about his financial troubles while the band is on hiatus; drummer Homer Steinweiss; and Dapettes Starr Duncan Lowe and Saundra Williams.
