The 35th annual edition of the New York Jewish Film Festival—co-presented by the Jewish Museum and Film at Lincoln Center—once again presents an enticing mix of documentaries and features. Here are capsule reviews of a handful of films I saw: 

 

Charles Grodin was many things: a terrific actor onscreen and onstage; an acerbically funny talk-show guest; and an impassioned political talking-head in the early days of MSNBC. All that is covered more than adequately in James L. Freedman’s heartfelt documentary, which includes interviews with many of his Hollywood colleagues and friends: Robert DeNiro and Martin Brest (his Midnight Run costar and director), Steve Martin, Elaine May, Martin Short, Carol Burnett, Ellen Burstyn and many others. But what’s eye-opening is Grodin’s activism for prison reform: he helped get several women who were wrongly jailed for drug offenses. There are countless hilarious film clips and appearances on Carson and Letterman, but the most poignant moments are the heartrending testimonials from the women Grodin helped release from prison.

 

 

 

When Claude Lanzmann died in 2018, his legacy was already cemented by his unforgettable nine-hour film Shoah, which eschewed archival Holocaust footage to instead let those who perpetrated and were victimized by the Nazi killing machine speak. Guillaume Ribot has made a valuable making-of feature using never-before-seen footage of Lanzmann meeting and ingratiating himself with several Shoah subjects and families. Lanzmann comes off as passionate, overbearing but always respectful—the perfect artist to create such a monumental work of witnessed history.

 

The closing of Orna and Ella, a beloved restaurant in Tel Aviv, after 25 years is recounted in this touching documentary by director Tomer Heymann, who records the final weeks leading up to the closing with sympathy and tact. We see these two graceful chefs-restauranteurs—whose intimate location was a rarity in that it made its own breads, pastas and ice cream on the premises—at the center of a bittersweet look at a beautiful personal and professional partnership.

 

Renowned photographer Fred Stein, who grew up in Germany before fleeing Hitler and becoming famous after moving to France and America as a street portraitist and candidly capturing the likes of Albert Einstein, is the subject of this intimate documentary by his son Peter Stein and Dawn Freer. The filmmakers explore Fred’s compelling biography as well as a look at how his legacy is being handled by scholars and museum curators who are creating exhibitions of his historically important work. 

 

 

This little-known but important story about a Jewish lawyer and labor activist who sued Henry Ford for libel in 1927 after the racist mogul ran a smear campaign against him in his Detroit newspaper is recounted in Gaylen Ross’ enlightening documentary. Stephen Kunken engagingly recites Sapiro’s own words about his life, business and battle with Ford, while Ross effectively uses newsreel footage and Ford’s own words against him. The outcome of the suit—Ford agreed to a retraction, eventually shutting down his paper—was the first time hate speech suffered consequences in America, which up to that time had no laws governing its misuse.

 

 

Judith Colell’s trenchant drama about the residents of a Spanish village near the French-Spanish border, who risk their lives to help Jewish refugees escape Vichy France, has very few melodramatic flourishes as it concentrates on the humanity of good people hoping for a small triumph over evil. The performances by a first-rate cast—led by Miki Esparbé as customs officer Manel, Maria Rodríguez Soto as his wife Merce, Bruna Cusí  as helpful neighbor Juliana and Joren Seldeslachts as the local Nazi SS head—are superlative individually and together.

 

Matthew Spear not only wrote and directed but also stars as Sam, a down-on-his-luck paralegal who gets a gig as a manny for a mostly invisible husband and his depressed and lonely wife, Dianne, watching their three young daughters, in this alternately amusing and enervating would-be rom-com. Although Amanda Peet is her usually winning self as Dianne, there’s nothing in Spear’s writing, directing, performance or bearing that would make anyone believe Sam would become her confidante and possibly something more.