1. Bill Cunningham New York.
Watching his little fashion slide shows on the New York Times I always felt like an asshole because I didn’t like his commentary, his enthusiasm seemed… weird. I always wondered what his deal was, whats his motive, he could not possibly be this earnest. BUT. HE. IS. He is so principled and humble and dedicated, he is really a modern ascetic. It’s noble and sad. I cried. On netflix instant. Way better than trying to watch Season II of Damages, which you should not attempt unless you want to see Ted Danson pretend to cry. You don’t.

2. Women, Art, Revolution documentary.
Saw this in the theater just tonight. It’s a documentary history of the emergence of feminist art, with a focus on AIR Gallery, Guerilla Girls, Judy Chicago, activism and the seventies. It was nice that the talking heads were women who I’ve never seen in any other women’s art documentaries (all like, three of them) except Nancy Spero, they were lesser known people, behind the scenes toilers, women who were the very first feminist art professors in the country. Lots of milestones and valiant attempts and often, depressing results. It skips a lot of the eighties and mentions Barbara Kruger and Cindy Sherman, though more in passing, rather than emblems of success–or women who benefited from groundwork. A lot of the seventies work is familiar if you saw the WACK! show that toured 2-3 years ago, and it’s a lot of the stuff that we think of as “cliche” feminist art now–labias, naked portraiture, hair, bodies, bondage, goddess art, joke penises, women doing performances in beards. This puts it in a better social context, details the exact struggles and coalescing of the movement and the various fractures. When Nancy Spero talked about presenting her portfolio at Leo Castelli for the first time, and the curatorial assistant making her put it on the floor and kneel in front of him to show him, and how her biggest year ever was when she was at 81–is just stunning. How freaked out the establishment was about the emergence of women artists, by women demanding inclusion in galleries and surveys and major museums, just 25-30 years ago–makes me grateful when I think about the frequency with which I get to see women’s work and shows at galleries and museums. Check and see if it’s coming to your town. Don’t be like the lady sitting behind us who fell asleep about 9 minutes and then snored through the whole thing. ALSO: WILD FLAG did the score and it’s really good. They should do all scores.

3. Lewis and Clark: The Journey
It’s three-plus hours long and it’s Ken Burns, but it’s not Ken Burns at his most intensively cliche. He is modest and reigned in on this. We’ve been watching about half hour a night before we fall asleep and all the waterfalls and grassy plains makes me want to go see America where it is still wild. Also, Sacagawea SAVES THE ASSES of these dudes. AND! She lives, on the road, on the stream, in the mountains, spending the better part of 18 months in a canoe with her BRAND NEW INFANT strapped to her back. She should be on the penny. I cannot imagine spending 2 minutes with my 14 month old son in canoe, let alone on horseback in a snowy mountain for two weeks. WTF. We are almost to the end, we keep falling asleep. White people ruined so much, but it seems like it was mostly the people that came after these dudes, who were actually pretty reasonable and occasionally very brave.