100 Inspirational Documentaries to Watch Now

It would be understandable if it only occurs to you midway through that Little Girl isn’t actually a narrative feature but a gorgeously made documentary. Director Sébastien Lifshitz approaches his main character of Sasha not just with respect and empathy for her identity, but with a dedication to bring out the euphoria of feeling comfortable in one’s skin. As a result, Lifshitz seems to intentionally avoid any and all scenes where Sasha may face discrimination (especially at school), but even if this choice occasionally make the material feel thin, getting to see Sasha gradually learning to express herself more—or even just just seeing her enjoy a quiet moment on her own—is more precious than anything.

When filmmaker and actress Mélanie Laurent (Breathe, Inglorious Basterds) was pregnant with her son, she learned about a study that predicted that climate change would cause human civilization to crumble by 2050. Like many soon-to-be parents, she worried about what it means to bring a child to a world where that’s a scientific forecast.

Instead of despairing, she chose to make this movie about solutions. She traveled the world with an activist friend documenting how human ingenuity is getting in the way of the situation worsening. The documentary goes to 10 countries to investigate solutions on five levels: agriculture (food), energy, economy, education, and democracy.

By retelling a vital chapter of the civil rights movement from the perspective of an entire community—and not just through individual prominent figures—Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power emphasizes the need for collective action, and what it really means to fight for equal rights. And through highly articulate interviewees who’ve all maintained a clear, analytical understanding of the different philosophies driving the movement forward, the documentary also becomes uncommonly optimistic, energetic, and good-humored about this continuing fight. This is history not as an artifact but as a living thing, still present in the everyday and still great fun to learn about.

Judy Blume, the author behind enduring classics like Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, Superfudge, and Forever, gifts us with her comforting presence and precise insight in Judy Blume Forever, a delightful documentary about a delightful woman.

Here, Blume looks back and lets us in on the eventful private life that inspired her prolific work life. Each book has a behind-the-scenes story, which the documentary pairs with commentary from well-known fans like Molly Ringwald, Lena Dunham, and Samantha Bee. Additionally (and most memorably), the documentary also features the years-old correspondence Blume has kept with the children who wrote and confided in her. Whether or not you’ve read her work, watching this film is a heartwarming experience that will soon have you grabbing the nearest Blume classic.

Saying that the program I Love Lucy paved the way for television would be an understatement. Lucille Ball inspired a generation of female comedians, Desi Arnez blazed a trail for Latinos making it in America, and the show that they starred in broke records upon records, redefining what sitcoms could be at a time when no one took them seriously. 

Millions tuned into their love story as Lucy and Rick, but their real-life relationship as Lucy and Desi was just as compelling. It was complicated by jealousy, race, gender, and class, but it was also solidly grounded in true, enduring love. This documentary, directed by Amy Poehler, does well to tell us the couple’s truth without sensationalizing it. Instead of blowing things out of gossipy proportions, she zeroes in on the messy facts and weaves them into a nuanced, enlightening tale about marriage, celebrity, and fame. Thanks to Poehler, the story about Lucy and Desi is just as riveting as their legendary show. 

As the face of kung fu, a sports documentary on Bruce Lee is practically expected for ESPN’s 30 for 30 series. So many of them have been produced since the actor’s death in 1973. However, in Be Water, director Bao Nguyen captures the icon not through his works, but through his philosophy. Starting with his first screen test, the camera rarely strays from him, keeping us hooked on his magnetic presence even during voice-overs of interviews from his friends and family. This, mixed with readings of letters he’s written, reveals a man whose self-discipline and attitude power through obstacles against him. The film only diverts its attention to identifying those obstacles, but it only better proves the actor’s strength. In martial arts and in film, Be Water respects Lee as a force of nature– the rare force that broke barriers and bridged the gap between East and West.

There’s a natural competitive thrill to this chronicle of the 1999 Scripps National Spelling Bee and eight of its bright young participants, but Spellbound has more than an edge-of-your-seat pull going for it. For one, there’s its holistic approach to profiling the competitors: director Jeffrey Blitz makes this as much a portrait of the village that raises these kids by interviewing their proud families and supportive communities. We get intimate snapshots of each of their disparate young lives, which together represent a cross-section of American society: from Angela — the self-taught daughter of Mexican ranchers who don’t speak English — to Neil, whose parents employ an army of tutors to prepare him for the oncoming “war.”

Spellbound ultimately sees the good in everyone — even the pushiest parents — and charitably foregrounds the obvious love and pride they all have for their kid geniuses, no matter what happens. What’s even more impressive, though, is the inspiring resilience and emotional intelligence of the young competitors themselves, some of whom have transcended deeply entrenched social inequalities to earn their place in the contest. Even those who don’t have a stirring backstory are nonetheless compelling characters (see: the delightful Harry), making Spellbound an alternately emotional, funny, and always gripping watch.

Just like with his mentor and contemporary, Fred Rogers, there are no dark secrets to Ernest Coombs’ earnest belief in giving children the space to be gentle and creative. Even with relatively little “drama” throughout the life of the man called Mr. Dressup, it’s still profoundly moving to see him put in the work to make the world a kinder place. Director Robert McCallum keeps this documentary exactly as straightforward as it needs to be, moving through Coombs’s life with total reverence but plenty of modesty—making sure not to inflate the idea of Mr. Dressup into something Coombs himself would have disagreed with.

In its act of honoring this person with an everyman personality and a trunk full of quaint costumes, the film also serves as a tribute to low budget educational television. Working within a very small studio, with simple puppets and no strict script to follow, Coombs and his friends found any way possible to stick to their original idea of teaching very young kids that being kind and communicating one’s feelings clearly were the best things one could achieve. Behind Mr. Dressup’s softness is a remarkable work ethic, a deep respect for children, and a commitment to thoughtful, universal values.

The mythology surrounding Sylvester Stallone: the action hero is so big and successful that many people, including myself, often forget about Sylvester Stallone: the prolific writer. He failed to bag roles as a young actor in the 1970s, so he whipped out a script (in a span of three days!) that became the iconic film Rocky. Later on, after witnessing the power of elderly entertainers, Stallone rewrote a screenplay that would become the ongoing franchise The Expendables. He’s a hunk in many people’s eyes, nothing more and nothing less, but Sly successfully steers you away from that one-dimensional reputation and reintroduces you to the dramatist and artist Stallone has been all along. The film begins as an immigrant story (Stallone hails from Italy), then turns into a rags-to-riches story (he grew up in a tough New York neighborhood without formal education) before finally transforming into an honest and earnest meditation on superstardom and artistry. Going in, I was wary that this would be just another puff piece on a Hollywood has-been. And while it does have its fair share of schmaltz, I now believe it’s a well-deserved and long overdue ode to Stallone’s unwavering commitment to the power of movies. 

From the sheer size of Frederick Wiseman’s documentaries (both in length and scope), it should be clear that his goal isn’t necessarily to have us retain every piece of information he gives us in all of this film’s board meetings and press conferences. This is a film interested in the macro view of how a city works, and Wiseman’s attention to detail even in his old age (he’s 94 at the time of writing this) is truly inspiring for any aspiring documentarian. City Hall doesn’t necessarily tell us anything we might not already know about the coordination between a local government unit and its constituents and citizens, but Wiseman gets us to think of the grand design of it all—which is both wondrous and horrifying to behold.