GAYLETTER

Don’t bother trudging out in the cold to a gallery or museum to get your art fix this week – stay home, pour yourself a stiff drink, and relax with this captivating documentary about the German painter Gerhard Richter. Directed by Corinna Belz, it gives a charming insight into the famously secretive painter. If you want an overview of his career, then this is not the film for you (I mean just google him, for god’s sake...). The docos main focus is Richter’s intense process of creating abstract paintings at his immaculate studio in Cologne. You get a sense of the physicality of his method as he spreads layer upon layer of bold paint onto the canvas, then scrapes a massive squeegee across the surface. The calmness of his studio work is contrasted by the frenetic flashing of bulbs as reporters hound Richter at openings. I loved getting to know Richter, he’s like the shy grandfather I never had, exuding a charming sweetness almost at odds with the masculine energy present in his paintings. The film is ultimately suspenseful, keeping you on your toes as Richter’s technique yields surprising results. With each smear of the squeegee – new colors emerge that you, and he, never expected.  —Patrick

I watched this hugely popular French movie (and Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film) while flying back from Australia. I mention this because, for some reason, I’m far more sentimental 30,000 feet above sea level. It wasn’t long into this movie that I was bawling like Lindsay Lohan at a probation hearing. The Intouchables stars Francois Cluzet, as Philippe, a millionaire who’s been paralyzed from the neck down after a para-gliding accident, and Omar Sy, as Driss, a Senegalese man out on parole. Driss is hired as Philippe’s caretaker and they quickly become inseparable. Driss introduces Philippe to weed, takes him on joy-rides in expensive cars, even hires pretty girls to rub his ears (they’re an erotic zone, didn’t ya know). The film is a pleasure to watch, but also quite bleak in parts (hence my crying). The even-handed direction is likely the reason it’s become the 2nd highest grossing film of all time in France (behind Welcome to the Sticks). While certainly not the greatest film of all time, from the 7 I saw on the crazy long flight home, it’s the only one that stuck with me. Watch it next time you need a smile.  —tom

Oddly enough I find Ai Weiwei much like Warhol — he asks everyone around him for ideas — as he did on camera regarding the production of content for his upcoming Tate Modern Show and San Paulo Biennale in the riveting doc Never Sorry. “At this point my head is empty, I don’t know what to do” he proclaims, then confesses, in the opening moments of the doc “Actually I have very little involvement in the production of my work, I mainly make the decisions.” OH, OK! do I smell some Calvin Klein in the air? (thank you Francisco Costa) Sorry I am free associating... this Weiwei doc Never Sorry, never disappoints as it wraps your head around the last 3 years of Ai’s life including the 81 day jail stint for provoking the uptight as all hell Chinese government. He LOVES raising his fuck finger in front of famous spots like Tiananmen Square and The White House, then tweeting the images. It’s hard to mistake his intent, he slaps you in the face with it. Enough said, watch this film, Weiwei is China’s Picasso, Basquiat, Norma Rae and then some.  —Gayletter

“This delectable documentary profiles sushi chef Jiro Ono, an 85 year old master who’s 10 seat, $300 a plate restaurant is legendary among Tokyo foodies.” Don’t watch this if you’re hungry cuz for an hour and a half this film delivers impeccable sushi, sushi and more sushi. It’s all beautifully crafted by Jiro and his two ambitious sons, Takahsi who opened his own spot, and Yashikazu, who is poised to take over for Jiro when he lays down his knife. The infamous Michelin guide gave the restaurant, situated in the bottom of the subway, 3 stars. The meticulous process from fish selection, to seducing the best rice dealer for a better deal, play out against the backdrop of Jiro’s unassuming personality and unwavering desire to make better sushi even at age 85! I know, sushi right? But trust, this is a lesson in the pursuit of perfection that translates into any language, grab your chopsticks have a watch and let the sake flow.  —Gayletter

Now here’s a great opportunity to see a rare glimpse into Indonesian lesbian culture (don’t act like that hasn’t been on your To Do list). Children of Srikandi — the first documentary of its kind from the faraway land of gamalang and rice paddies — is now playing at the Museum of Natural History. Even though pussy is not my flavor, I was deeply moved by the intimate and raw stories of these eight diverse gals. There are butches, fems, trannies and non-gender conforming subjects interwoven with a kinky shadow puppet show about the ancient character Srikandi, performed by two elusive, yet stunning drag queens. Sounds intriguing right? Especially after I found out Srikandi is a mythological figure (from the Mahabharata) who is “neither man nor woman but moves fluidly between both genders.” After the credits roll go see some dinosaurs (the ticket gets you into the museum as well) it will ground you.  —Gayletter

“Hope there’s someone who’ll take care of me when I die” these powerful and haunting words sung by Antony, from Antony and the Johnsons, really struck me. I was so moved by those lyrics that I decided I must go see the documentary Charles Atlas directed about the group’s 2006 European tour titled Turning. During the concert they created this rotating platform that exhibits 13 live models. The film “includes backstage clips and interviews with each of the models many of whom are transgender or grappling with issues of gender and sexuality.” What a perfect anecdote to the sappy all American “safe” Thanksgiving feast. Please bring the whole family, I dare you! This is the final screening and your last chance to see it.  —Gayletter