32. Trekkies (Roger Nygard, 1997)
Who is the bigger Star Trek fanatic? Is it the dentist who has converted his surgery into a replica of the Enterprise? The fan who insists her colleagues address her as Commander? The Interstellar Language School who seem to scream Klingon at each other all day? Or the man whose recall of the show's "science-fiction folk singing" will never leave your mind? The fact that he's dressed as, erm, a female astronaut (whose character was introduced and killed off in the same episode) doesn't particularly help matters. Across the spectrum, there's cosplay, fan art, and of course, slash fiction. It's the latter category that most concerns Denise Crosby. Like her fellow alumni who appear in the film, she isn't sure whether to be flattered or afraid, yet you sense the affection works both ways, with James Doohan's touching story encapsulating that fine line, that ever-awkward balance between the famous and their fans.
31. Helvetica (Gary Hustwit, 2007)
Eighty minutes dedicated to the use, beauty and ubiquity of a typeface? One for the purists, surely. Yet there's much to learn and perhaps even love in Hustwit's history of Helvetica. Released to commemorate the font's fiftieth birthday, the film celebrates its impact upon modern culture, as well as being a love-letter to great design. The graphic and type designers featured are nothing less than passionate when describing just why Helvetica, and its Neue, Light and World offshoots, work so well on almost every surface. Erik Spiekermann speaks for many when he describes his relationship with Helvetica, and type in general, thus:
Im obviously a typeomaniac, which is an incurable if not mortal disease. I cant explain it. I just love, I just like looking at type. I just get a total kick out of it: they are my friends. Other people look at bottles of wine or whatever, or, you know, girls bottoms. I get kicks out of looking at type. Its a little worrying, I admit, but its a very nerdish thing to do.
30. Religulous (Larry Charles, 2008)
If there were two topics destined never to meet, it would surely be comedy and religion, and so when US comic, talk show host and firm agnostic Bill Maher takes a scattergun approach to faith, he does so less in the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and more in the spirit of poking fun. His fellow heretic Larry Charles has already proven himself a thorn in societys side, having directed Borat and several episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. At the start of the film, Maher pulls an expression of smug superiority, and its a mask he wears until the closing credits. All religions are crazy, he says, They have to be to keep up. Naturally, its Christianity that gets the, erm, lions share. He meets televangelists (whom all seem to be skimming a little off the top), the obligatory crank who believes hes the Second Coming, and an imam who bats off Mahers rather antagonistic agenda - only to be upstaged by his own ringtone. A visit to the Holy Land theme park, in which the story of Christ is re-enacted before a praying (and paying) crowd as light entertainment, is practically beyond parody, yet "Jesus" fares surprisingly well against Mahers line of questioning. Undeterred, our host disguises himself as a rambling madman, and stands on his Speakers Corner soapbox to spread the word of Scientology. The crowd laugh at him, which is of course the punchline he wants. One of the more surprising scenes sees an encounter with a Vatican priest who, unbelievably, shares not only Mahers scepticism but appears to be the most content interviewee by far, although youd expect that honour to fall at the feet of the leader of the First Universal Church of Cantheism; the belief that cannabis literally is God. Naturally, this interview is held in an Amsterdam coffee shop, wherein Maher tries his best to resist a wry look to camera every few seconds. It seems that religion becomes inherently funny the very second youre told to take it seriously, a paradox that, to Maher at least, is something of a Godsend.
29. Dig! (Ondi Timoner, 2004)
Winner of the Grand Jury Prize at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival, this documentary explores the love-hate relationship between Nineties upstarts The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and in particular their respective frontmen Courtney Taylor and Anton Newcombe. There's a considerable bias towards the former, who gets not only more screentime, but also narrating privileges. Both men proclaim a musical revolution, even if this simply means bringing their rehashed garage rock back from the Sixties. But how to succeed without - sin of all sins - selling out? Landing a deal with Capitol Records affords Taylor the luxury of challenging record producers and going berserk at David LaChapelle during their video shoot. Newcombe, on the other hand, is a wreck. Most gigs end with him throwing punches at his bandmates or making barely coherent rants against the industry. Ultimately, there's no use in being a rock messiah if there's no one to hear your message. And so The Dandy Warhols' breakthrough came when Vodafone chose Bohemian Like You to play in their ads, while the BJM had to wait almost a decade longer before their Straight Up and Down was used as the opening theme to Boardwalk Empire.