ABSTRACT
Introduction A surprisingly large number of people, including documentary filmmakers, will strive to differentiate the nonfiction films they enjoy (and make) from something they’ve stereotyped as “documentaries.” Documentaries, from the reputation they seem to hold, are the films some of us had to watch during fifth grade history or eighth grade science. Sometimes derided as “chalk and talk,” they tended to be dry, heavily narrated, filled with facts, and painful to sit through. So ingrained is this model, it seems, that inexperienced or polemical filmmakers still imitate it, creating films that are little more than illustrated research papers created to “show” or “prove” something through a steady recitation of data. And so nonfiction films that work-that grab and hold audiences through creative, innovative methods-are set apart by their makers and audiences as being somehow more than documentaries: they’re movies. Like Hollywood fiction, these films may emphasize character, conflict, rising stakes, a dramatic arc, resolution. They bring viewers on a journey, immerse them in new worlds, explore universal themes. They compel viewers to consider and even care about topics and subjects they might previously have overlooked. And yet, unlike Hollywood fiction, they are based on a single and powerful premise: These stories, and the elements with which they are told, are true.
