36. Self Made (Gillian Wearing, 2011)
Winner of the 1997 Turner Prize, Wearing's foray into feature-length film is quite the collaboration. In 2007, she placed an ad online and in newspapers that read: Would you like to be in a film? You can play yourself or a fictional character. Call Gillian. The hundreds who volunteered were whittled down to seven, who were then put through an intensive acting regime by Method coach Sam Rumblelow. They were encouraged to use their ''emotional resources'' in order to create a wholly individual dramatic piece. What is immediately striking about each participant is how they see this as an opportunity to play the leading role for once, rather than the victim or passer-by. 29 year-old Lian addresses her distant father by playing Cordelia in a scene from King Lear, while warehouse worker Dave created a character who believed he was Mussolini. As cathartic as their exercises are, one wonders whether these volunteers weren't hand-picked purely for their apparent vulnerability?
35. This Is Not A Film (Jafar Panahi, 2011)
In 2010, Iranian filmmaker Panahi was sentenced to six years' imprisonment, imposed with a twenty-year ban on making films and forbidden from leaving the country. His crime, a propaganda against the Islamic State, was to speak out against the rigged re-election of President Ahmedinejad. And so, effectively under house arrest, he invites collaborator Mojtaba Mirtahmasb to record an unfinished script. Strictly speaking, it is Mirtahmasb who is making the film. Shot on DV and iPhone camera, the film follows Panahi as he circles his flat like a caged bird, frustrated at having had his creative wings clipped. He describes his latest idea, a young woman forbidden from going to study the arts at university, using only stage directions and whatever props he has to hand. This leads to an earnest (and increasingly exasperated) exploration of the nature and purpose of film, as suggested by its rather Magrittean title. There's humour, too; at one point he's almost upstaged by a pet iguana, but there's also real suspense. Moments after hushed talk of "them", there's a knock at the door. A student introduces himself as a replacement custodian, here to empty the bins. The two men look at him. He looks back at them. He then spots the camera...
34. Capturing The Friedmans (Andrew Jarecki, 2003)
It was the director's original intention to make a film about children's birthday party clowns in New York City. David Friedman, aka Silly Billy, was the most sought-after entertainer, and so Jarecki decided to start at the top. The film quickly leapt onto another topic, however, after it emerged that David was harbouring a dark family secret. In an interview with David's mother, Elaine, she lets slip word of a "case". This leads Jarecki to discover that David, his brother Jesse and father Arnold had all been convicted of child abuse. In 1987, and during a peaceful Thanksgiving dinner, David's father Arnold was arrested on grounds of distributing pornography. As he was led out of the house, he and his family became the subject of every lurid headline and news exposé in the country. A life on camera is nothing extraordinary for a Friedman. Dozens of home videos show a family perfectly at ease, if not obsessed, with being recorded. It's as though they're constantly performing - a compulsion Jarecki discovered in the aftermath of Arnold's arrest. Strangest of all is how they react (or, simply, act) when the allegations are raised to child molestation. His wife Elaine stands as a lone figure in her belief that Arnold is guilty; the rest either downplay or downright ignore the claims entirely. At times unflinchingly personal, the camera follows the family around the home, the court hearings and, ultimately, the prison cell. Throughout it all, Jarecki resists the urge to sensationalise; it appears that the Friedmans are quite happy to do that by themselves.
33. Tarnation (Jonathan Caouette, 2003)
Tarnation was made for just $218, but to say that it shows is by no means a criticism. Edited with iMovies software, Caouette has compiled photographs, video diaries, Super- 8 home movies and even answering machine messages to create an affecting portrait of his childhood. Its lo-fi charm places you firmly in the family album: part self-discovery, part ode to his mother, Renee. Years of electro-shock therapy have only exacerbated her schizophrenia and made her tune in and out of Caouette's life like a radio signal. This sense of disconnection permeates the entire film, with many stills switching colours like an Andy Warhol painting or fading in and out to brilliant hallucinatory effect. It's a perfect film to watch on an art-gallery level. Perhaps to reflect the fragmented subject matter, it blends styles, soundtracks and subtitles, video excerpts with re-enactments and the extremely personal with the experimental. Tarnation is a documentary like no other.