London-based distributor Dogwoof and music films specialist Eagle Rock have partnered on international sales for the Natalie Johns-directed “Max Richter’s Sleep.”
The documentary follows the groundbreaking British-born German composer — who rose to prominence with the Golden Globe-winning “Waltz With Bashir” and whose credits include “Ad Astra” and “Shutter Island” — as he created his landmark eight-hour album, “Sleep.”
Centered on Richter’s open-air concert in Los Angeles, as well as footage from Berlin, Sydney, and Paris, the film examines his life and process and includes personal reflections from the composer, as well as a visual archive from his long-term creative partner, the BAFTA-winning filmmaker Yulia Mahr, the co-architect of “Sleep.”
Before the song “Dance Monkey” hit No. 1 in 20 countries and topped one billion plays on Spotify, it was a local attraction on the beachfront streets of Byron Bay, Australia.
Written by a busker named Toni Watson, 26, who performs as the solo act Tones and I, “Dance Monkey” uses a plunking keyboard and thumping bass line as a backdrop to describe the very specific life of a street musician.
“Just like a monkey I’ve been dancing my whole life,” she sings. “And you just beg to see me dance just one more time.”
Metal is a music genre that brings fans together regardless of their geographical location by virtue of cathartic liberation and a sense of community.
“Saigon Metalhood” tells the story of three generations of metalheads spearheading the legitimization of the genre in Vietnam.
The soundtrack of the documentary features artists from the Vietnamese underground metal scene and aims to debunk the commonly held myth in Vietnam that the genre is nothing more than a disordered and harsh ruckus.
The film premiered in Vietnam last month and will be available for streaming around the world later this year.
Find out more about “Saigon Metalhead” by visiting the film’s website.
When documentary filmmaker Oeke Hoogendijk originally decided to follow art dealer Jan Six XI in his search for undiscovered Rembrandt paintings, she had no idea that during the next four years, Mr. Six would potentially discover two.
Nor could she anticipate that one of the most dramatic art buying tussles in recent history would take place before her camera’s lens, when the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and the Louvre in Paris vied for ownership of a pair of full-length Rembrandt portraits.
The competition resulted in a rare and record-breaking $179 million) purchase from French banker Eric de Rothschild.
Such is the luck of the documentarian who lands on a timeless subject whose work still elicits strong responses from collectors, dealers, and museum professionals worldwide.
Hoogendijk’s 2014 documentary, “The New Rijksmuseum,” followed the decade-long renovation and expansion of the Dutch national museum.
Inspired by its collection of Rembrandt paintings—the largest in the world—she turned her focus to the artist himself.
Given the sheer amount of money, megabytes, and human resources invested in Hollywood fantasy and sci-fi flicks nowadays — the new “Star Wars” being the latest in a long line of blockbusters dating back to, well, the first “Star Wars” — it’s hard to imagine there was once a time when such films consisted of a bunch of guys building and shooting stuff in their workshops, trying to conjure up movie magic.
In “Phil Tippett: Mad Dreams and Monsters,” the new documentary from French behind-the-scenes specialists Gilles Penso and Alexandre Poncet (“Creature Designers: The Frankenstein Complex”), we get to meet one of these guys up close, learning how Tippett’s artsy obsession with stop-motion animation evolved into an Oscar-winning practice and several billion-dollar tentpoles for five decades and counting.
With credits on a handful of the “Star Wars” movies, the first two “RoboCop” films, “Jurassic Park,” “The Twilight Saga” and “Starship Troopers,” Tippett’s long and prosperous career includes some of the biggest Hollywood franchises of all time.
Dance, of all things, has turned out to be a terrific subject for 3-D filmmaking.
In 2011, Wim Wenders took on the work of dancer-choreographer Pina Bausch in the memorable “Pina” and now, from a very different filmmaker, comes “Cunningham,” a visual wonder that involves from start to finish.
The subject, as the title points out, is Merce Cunningham, the revolutionary American choreographer whose decades of work changed the very nature of dance before he died a decade ago at age 90.
Though two-thirds of Alla Kovgan’s film is made up of 3-D excerpts from 14 of the 180 dances he created, “Cunningham” aims to be not only stunning, which it is, but also to serve as a kind of crash course in the man and his work.
More than that, by using all manner of visual pizzazz to creatively include archival material, including photographs, home movies and excerpts from letters and books, “Cunningham” makes good on its stated goal of doing justice to the man’s spirit of inventiveness.