Graydon Carter Movies

Directed by New Yorker Martin Scorsese, this documentary traces the career of Big Apple writer Fran Lebowitz, offering numerous examples of her sardonic wit and explaining how she has been at the forefront of the city's culture for nearly four decades. ~ Perry Seibert, Rovi

Alex Gibney (director of (Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room) turns his attention from corporate scandal to Gonzo journalism with this tribute to the libido-driven, Wild Turkey-swilling writer who never knew the meaning of the word "excess." Comprised largely of never-before-seen archival materials, Gibney's film focuses on the years between 1965 and 1975, when Hunter S. Thompson was truly firing on all cylinders. Rare home movies, audiotapes, and excerpts from unpublished manuscripts combine to paint an affectionate portrait to the wild-eyed father of Gonzo journalism. ~ Jason Buchanan, Rovi

As far as raw eccentricity is concerned, few American families could top the Paskowitzes. The patriarch, Dorian "Doc" Paskowitz, began life on a commendable, even enviable course, with an M.D. under his arm, rippling sandy-haired good looks, and experience almost single-handedly teaching the country of Israel how to surf. But in the years to follow, bitterness and inveterate disappointment ensued as Dr. Paskowitz tried to settle into a conventional existence. Two broken marriages and a medical career that Dorian would later describe as "miserable" left him clawing his way out, desperate for an "alternative" lifestyle. He soon met, courted, and married his third wife, a ravishing, sexy young woman named Juliette; these two free spirits jointly decided that they would live life, budding family in-tow, on the open road, in a series of low-budget trailers. As one child after another cropped up over the course of a decade, the family toured the country winning one surfing competition after another, and Dr. Paskowitz accepted low-rent medical jobs for the poor that reeled in little to no income.

In theory, this all seemed idealistic, even utopian; in reality, Dorian Paskowitz was reportedly a severe disciplinarian who denied his children the benefits of school and financial security, forced everyone to stick to an almost unbearable diet of a gruel-like substance, and -- even more alarmingly -- felt comfortable having open and noisy sex with his wife, with the children only a few feet away. In time, as one child after another grew up, left the clan, and attempted to survive, they found it difficult, if not impossible to function in the day-to-day world without the education, social skills, and monetary know-how that so many young adults take for granted. With his documentary Surfwise, filmmaker Doug Pray tells the Paskowitzes' strange, bewildering, and ultimately heartbreaking story via incisive interviews with family members, still photographs, and telling archival footage. ~ Nathan Southern, Rovi

Telecast to coincide with the six-month "anniversary" of the horrific terrorist attack on New York's World Trade Center, the powerful and poignant two-hour CBS TV documentary 9/11 grew out of an independent film project inaugurated by French filmmakers Jules and Gedeon Naudet several months before the tragedy. Originally intending to produce an in-depth study of a "typical" American fireman, from the rookie training days to matriculation as a full-fledged firefighter, the brothers virtually lived in the headquarters of the F.D.N.Y.'s Engine Seven, Ladder One company. Thus it was that the Naudets were on hand to tape record the airliner "bombing" of both towers one and two on that fateful September 11 -- and even more dramatically, one of the brothers was able to record the hectic activities of the firefighters as they courageously went about their duties in the doomed lobby of tower one -- with only minutes to spare before both towers would collapse into a sickening mass of rubble. Although the more appalling examples of carnage are tactfully left unshown, such chilling vignettes as the offcamera sounds of crashing glass, indicating that another victim has jumped to his or her death from the uppermost heights of the twin towers, are left intact, obliging CBS to run a disclaimer in hopes of sparing the victims' loved ones any further anguish (too, the amount of understandable profanity spoken by the harried firefighters far exceeded anything ever heard before on mainstream American television). Telecast with only three commercial interruptions on March 10, 2002, 9/11 was dedicated to all the victims of the tragedy, with most of the proceeds going to the Uniformed Firefighter Association Scholarship Fund. The special garnered one of the highest ratings posted by CBS in years, with 38 million viewers tuning in. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi