After the COVID-19 pandemic, Busan International Film Festival founder Kim Dong-ho, at eighty-five, picks up a camcorder for the first time and decides to make a documentary. His lens turns toward cinemas struggling through the crisis, as beloved theaters vanish amid dwindling audiences. Seeking to reconnect with old friends, "Mr. Kim" — now nearing ninety — travels the world to talk with filmmakers and cinephiles. Through these encounters, he reflects on cinema’s past and future, finding wisdom and resilience in a time of transformation. His journey becomes a meditation on change, memory, and the enduring spirit of film.
I understood post-memory as passing down stories and images of one’s experiences that are not your own. For decades, rape has been depicted in cinema through a third-person perspective, leaving the viewer to observe rape; not to experience it.
Documented human suffering is never easy to view or read about and is understandably triggering for many people, but it can be educational, and education is a key to change. An overwhelming amount queer people worldwide (and in my own country) have it far worse than I could imagine, and documentaries such as Welcome to Chechnya bring issues to light that certain groups of people would never see.
The death of Grace's father brings challenges as the family tries to preserve their ranch.
Shudder makes an incredibly atmospheric docuseries about the darker side of Hollywood mysteries.
In 'Little Boxes," an interracial family moves to an all-white town where they face the judgement of others who have never been exposed to people of color before.
