Civil rights activist Bayard Rustin popularized the phrase “Speak truth to power” as a foundational tactic of holding authorities accountable and progress toward a more just society. And H.L. Mencken is often credited with the obligation of the journalist: “To comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” No one has exemplified that directive with more passion over more time than Amy Goodman of Democracy Now! She has more than earned the exclamation mark at the end of both the name of her organization and the name of this documentary about her life and work reporting the news from the perspective of ordinary people.

As the movie opens, it is 2018 and she is literally chasing after P. Wells Griffith III, then the Trump administration’s climate advisor in his first term, currently Senior Advisor in the Bureau of Political-Military Affairs, at the U.S. Department of State, and one-time a managing director at one of Washington DC’s most powerful K Street “communications” firms working on behalf of the oil industry. He insists that he has to rush to a meeting as she peppers him with questions about what he is doing there. “You weren’t running late when you were just standing there.” He accuses her of harassing him and tells her to set up an interview. But when she tries to follow up with his aide, they literally shut the door in her face.

We then see her asking then-President George H.W. Bush, “What do you say to those who say that you’re a war criminal?” And a provocative question for her, “You’re an activist and journalist. Can you do both?” Stephen Colbert, on “The Colbert Report,” jokingly calls her a communist. Rush Limbaugh, not joking, calls her a radical leftist. And we see her reporting, over decades, from every part of the world where people in power are putting people without power at risk, from Haiti to Gaza and all over the United States. Her reporting helped to free a wrongly imprisoned individual in Louisiana after 38 years. She was beaten and held at gunpoint when Indonesian military fired on civilians at an independence rally in East Timor.

Another journalist admits that some journalists do not ask tough questions because they fear losing access. But Goodman never pulls her punches. Every bit of her is fully committed. She even named her dog after an anti-Nazi group in occupied France.

The archival material from her childhood is illuminating and endearing. When she was growing up, her brother David started a family newspaper, reporting on events in their home. When their mother tried to censor a story about Amy getting a spanking, “he really cried censorship, because he was only eight years old.” The newspaper even had letters to the editor “where the whole family fought about issues,” and one from the Goodman children’s grandfather gently disagreed with David’s position on the war in Vietnam, and David responded, “I love you but your views on the war are stupid.”

Goodman is generally considered left-wing, but that is not entirely fair. Unlike some of her competition, who are selective in framing and choosing stories they report, even to the point of having to pay millions of dollars to settle defamation cases, with “local, independent” reporters who are reciting identical scripts from corporate HQ, Goodman has consistently reported the facts from the perspective nearly all other journalists overlook, the impact of the news on ordinary people. When she gets in trouble, it is not about spin, but about the Rustin and Mencken standards for reporters. This movie is a welcome reminder that it is the irritating, provocative, relentless journalists who are an indispensable foundation for democracy.

Parents should know that this film includes depiction of violence and conflict.

Family discussion: If your family had a newspaper, what stories would it include? What news sources do you think are most trustworthy and why?

If you like this, try: listening to Goodman’s reporting and other documentaries about pioneering journalists, like “Writing With Fire,” “Bad Press,” “The Most Dangerous Man in America,” and “Cover-Up”

Witty barbs, fabulous fashion, a touch of romance, some big name cameos and a sensational surprise appearance by a superstar singer — this sequel to the film that was foundational for a generation of millennials is worth the wait. There is a lot to love for those who are most familiar with the original (look for Andy’s cerulean blue sweater and a pair of near-identical belts) but returning screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna knows that the world has changed and her characters have, too.

In the original, based on the novel by former Vogue intern Lauren Weisberger, the fashion magazine plays an enormously influential role in a multibillion dollar industry. It’s not that Runway editor in Chief Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) can just get away with being legendarily imperious and laser-focused; she needs to be to do that job. Well, possibly she does not need to be quite so demanding, but as we saw when she acknowledged the reality of a second divorce in one of the first film’s key scenes, she has feelings and even moments of vulnerability.

Times have changed. When we last saw Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), she was the second assistant to Miranda, essentially getting coffee, dropping off the draft versions of the magazine at Miranda’s home, and hanging up her coat. She was also being terrorized by the first assistant, Emily (Emily Blunt) and getting some support from the magazine’s loyal photo editor, Nigel (Stanley Tucci).

In the opening scene of the new film, Andy and the newspaper she works for receive prestigious journalism awards just as the entire staff is fired and the publication shut down by its new owners, some sort of investor group that sees them only as a balance sheet liability. Where the first film was based on the then-reasonable assumption that journalism produced credible information that was widely respected, even a speciality publication like a fashion magazine, this one recognizes that people are as likely to get their information from social media as a newspaper and that as a result of the cacophony of information and re-alignment of advertising and other revenue sources, the providers have become siloed and shrill.

Runway, perhaps from the pressure to publish constantly, made an embarrassing mistake in an article about a fast fashion brand and is widely derided for it. (The memes online are very funny). The wealthy owner of Runway and other publications, Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman) wants to respond by bringing in someone with excellent credentials as a journalist. So he hires Andy as Runway’s features editor without asking or even notifying Miranda. Her first assignment is to accompany Miranda and Nigel to grovel before one of their biggest advertisers, Dior, now led by Emily. And Miranda says to her, “All I need to do is bide my time until you fail.”

Miranda’s diva behavior may be diminished in light of the altered status of the magazine and a complaint to HR that now has her hanging up her own coats. But she is still a Dowager Duchess-level purveyor of acid commentary and Streep, as always is never short of magnificent, clearly relishing the opportunity to make Miranda more complex and real. Blunt, whose appearance in the first film was a major breakthrough for her, also gets to do more with Emily. All three are spectacular.

The men in the lives of these women are Kenneth Branagh as Miranda’s violinist husband (supportive), Justin Theroux as Emily’s billionaire boyfriend (comically arrogant), and Pete (Patrick Brammall), a dashing new love interest for Andy. They are very much secondary characters and do very well with it. Also worth spotting: Pauline Chalamet as a Runway staffer, Lucy Liu as a sought-after cover story subject, and many real-world celebrities, especially at Miranda’s Hamptons party, including Jon Batiste and  Suleika Jaouad,, Jenna Bush Hager, Naomi Campbell, Winnie Harlow, Donatella Versace, Molly Jong-Fast.

And the fashion! Wild and stunning. The glamor includes a fabulous fashion show in Milan in addition to the eye-popping ensembles of the stars. Watch for Streep’s amazing tassel jacket, which should inspire a lot of ransacking of thrift stores from DIY fashionistas.

The balance of fashion, fun, and character development keeps things moving and it’s thoughtful enough to have some meaning but light enough to be entertaining. A lot has changed in the worlds of fashion and journalism in two decades, but director David Frankel, screenwriter McKenna, and the powerhouse cast know what it takes to make a movie as irresistibly appealing as a classic little black dress.

Parents should know that this film has some strong language and some suggestive references. Characters drink alcohol.

Family discussion: What news sources do you like and why? What outfit in the movie was your favorite? Should Andy write the book?

If you like this, try: “The Devil Wears Prada” and a great documentary about Vogue, “The September Issue“

“Mother Mary” gets some points for the singular vision of writer/director David Lowery, striking images, and game performances by the supremely talented Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel, but not as many as it needs to overcome its pretentiousness, its pointlessness, and, worst of all, its ultimate emptiness. It wants so badly to be provocative and artistic but it is just boring.

Hathaway plays the title character, a hugely successful pop star along the lines of Lady Gaga, Madonna, and Chappell Roan. We see her performing in gigantic arenas, with fans overcome with joy, waving lit up cellphones. Mother Mary performs in stunning costumes, with headpieces that recall the literally iconic images of Medieval saints. Those scenes are strikingly filmed and Hathaway looks sensational and her singing is fully believable as pop star. The original songs are co-written by Jack Antonoff, Charli xcx, FKA twigs, and Hathaway.  

On a dark and stormy night (the first tired trope of many), Mother Mary arrives at the shabby chic ancient-castle-like atelier of a successful fashion designer named Sam Anselm (Coel). Despite the protests of Sam’s assistant, Hilda (Hunter Schafer), the rain-bedraggled Mary insists on seeing Sam, and pushes ahead, to tell Sam, “I need a dress.”

We can see that they have a history, and some of it will be revealed over the course of what is essentially the two of them verbally sparring for the rest of the film, one of those screenplays where every line is supposed to have a deeper meaning conveyed by the way it is delivered rather than by the words that are said. This means references to walls and doors that even the characters can’t decide whether they are literal or metaphor. The metaphors , including measuring Mary, some self-injury, and something between a ghost and a demonic possession are heavy-handed and not as meaningful as they intend to be. Either way, it’s more whiny than illuminating.

The posters say, “This is not a ghost story. This is not a love story.” But it is both, or at least trying to be. There are hints that the relationship between Mary and Sam may have been romantic. It was certainly an extremely close connection, as they worked together in the early days to create the Mother Mary persona. Sam was abandoned, and given no credit for her contributions.

Mary and Sam go back and forth, their conversation shifts from brittle jibes, with Sam insisting on a better quality of apology, and hopelessness, with Mary unable to say anything more about the dress she rejected other than “it isn’t me.” She cannot say what “me” is or should be. Sam tells Mary to perform the song she plans to perform in the dress she is asking for — without the music. Hathaway throws herself into this silent performance and throws herself around a bit, too.

It gets more theatrical, a flashback scene taking place through the doorway of the very iG-friendly barn-like atelier. The production and sound design deserve special note, with the crispness of the sewing shears and the tactile fabrics making a strong impression. But when paranormal themes come in, the storyline becomes as bedraggled as the storm-tossed title character.

Parents should know that this movie includes disturbing material, including graphic wounds, some self-inflicted. There are tense emotional confrontations with strong language and references to abusive behavior and a scary seance. A character takes pills.

Family discussion: Does Mother Mary remind you of any real-life pop stars? Why did she abandon Sam? Why did she come back? Should Sam accept her apology?

If you like this, try: “Vox Lux” and concert films/documentaries from Selena Gomez, Madonna, Billie Eilish, and Taylor Swift

To understand what kind of movie this is, you need to know that most, but not all, of Michael Jackson’s siblings and most, but not all, of his children were producers. His lawyer, John Branca, also produced and is played by Miles Teller.

Janet Jackson, Michael’s sister and a musical superstar of almost equal prominence, who did not produce, is erased from the story. So his non-superstar sister Rebbie. So is any possible fault or flaw in the title character, and any effort to give the rest of the characters any depth or personality. What it does find time for is way too many scenes of ecstatic fans at concerts and Michael visiting sick children. The movie has its entertaining moments, mostly when Jaafar Jackson replicates some of his uncle’s most iconic performances, but the dramatic sections are weak and sanitized.

The late self-titled “King of Pop” is played by his real-life nephew, Jermaine Jackson’s son, Jaafar., who evokes the memory of his uncle with his look (before and after nose job) and moves. Colman Domingo is powerfully crafty and brutal as Joseph Jackson, the cruel factory worker who was determined to make his children his ticket out of Gary, Indiana, and did not hesitate to pull out his belt to whip them if he felt they were not paying him enough respect. Nia Long is warm and empathetic as Katherine Jackson, whose quiet support for Michael gives him something to hold onto and whose mild protests get less mild after Michael’s success.

A stand-out here is Juliano Valdi as young Michael Jackson, both in his ability to show us the then 10-year-old (but claiming to be 8) as an already-electrifying performer. (I well remember how dazzling my sisters and I were by the Jackson 5’s first national television appearance, introduced by Diana Ross.)

The Michael of this film is a 20th century Peter Pan and we are constantly reminded of how he identified with that character, writing his father’s name next to a depiction of Captain Hook. He is portrayed here as a gentle, almost angelic, innocent who considers his pets (including a giraffe, a llama, and Bubbles the chimp) as his only friends and who loves to be swept away by classic old films. His bodyguard, Bill (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) is sympathetic. But he seems to have no relationship with anyone in his family except his mother, and in the most simplistic and superficial terms the movie suggests that the only issue is learning how to stand up to his father. We learn little about what inspires his music and what performing means to him. There’s nothing here about “We Are the World” and the controversies over his marriage, his children, his mutilating surgeries, and the allegations of abuse.

The question you have to ask yourself about a musical biography is whether it has something to say beyond what we get from watching archival footage of the subject. The answer here is no. Weirdly, we see Michael tell director John Landis to shoot the dance in the “Thriller” music video the way Fred Astaire insisted his dance numbers should be shot: a steady camera showing the full bodies of the dancers, but the dance numbers here do not follow that good advice. They are dynamic but they cut away from what we want to see.

And the portrayals are paper-thin. We do not learn anything about Michael’s relationship to his siblings, what any human friendships he had were like, or what inspired his music. The movie is clear about Joseph’s exploitation of Michael, trying to control him to continue to do what is best for the family (meaning money and attention for Joseph), with no commitment or even recognition of what might be best for Michael. Joseph wants him to continue to perform with the family, making solo music only on his off hours. We are supposed to cheer for Michael when he gets a lawyer to stand up to Joseph and then stands up for himself. But it is hard to see this film as anything but continuing the family’s efforts to make money from Michael’s talent. At the end we wonder whether he would see this as just another attempt to profit from his legacy.

Parents should know that this film includes child abuse, smoking, body dysmorphia, and a scary accident when Jackson is badly burned. He also visits very sick children and patients.

Family discussion: Is this a fair representation of Michael Jackson? What more do you want to know? Why was he so beloved?

If you like this, try: “The Jacksons: An American Dream,” “This is It,” “The Jacksons: Road to Victory,” and clips of Michael Jackson singing and dancing

There are three problems in trying to make a documentary about Lorne Michaels, who created and continues to run “Saturday Night Live” (except for five years) now for more than half a century. The first is the many, many documentaries already made about the show and the people who have appeared on it, including Steve Martin, John Belushi, Chris Farley, so this latest one is a small addition to a big jigsaw puzzle. It goes over events that have been thoroughly covered elsewhere, with some new archival material, like Michaels’ brief appearances as a performer himself in Canada when he was in his 20s and from a brief substitute for “SNL” that lasted less than a dozen years.

Second, Lorne Michaels really did not want to have a documentary made about him. As his close friend Paul Simon says to director Morgan Neville in the film, “You’ll capture a guy who is not happy.” So the movie is not about guy who is not happy, but about a guy who isn’t happy to have a cameras on him. Michaels likes his life, his job, and especially his home and family very much and he is, as anyone in that job would have to be, very even-tempered.

Third, because he is so even-tempered, and often downright dull, he is not a dynamic film presence, and because his job is “SNL” that is a gigantic contrast with EVERYONE ELSE on screen. Neville tries to jazz it up a bit with some animated segments, but we have to keep coming back to Michaels, who is not introspective beyond saying how much he loves nature or analytic about what does and does not work in the show (we see him re-arrange the order of the sketches but we don’t know anything about why).

I’ve watched “SNL” since the very first episode and have stuck with it through all of the ups and downs that are documented or in many cases glossed over quickly or ignored entirely in this film. I’m enough of a fan that I enjoyed it, though it is in no way an indispensable or particularly valuable addition to the record. Any serious fan has seen plenty about the early days, the “is ‘SNL’ past its prime” headlines the rocketing unknown-to-megawatt star trajectories (Eddie Murphy) and the “wait, what’s that one’s name again” cast members, plus the firing of Norm MacDonald (here’s a great take with David Letterman).

One benefit of surrounding himself with some of the most brilliant impressionists and comedians in the world is that most of them have a take on Michaels’ slightly stentorian delivery (and on his disappointed sigh). It is a lot of fun to hear so many of them almost subconsciously slip into his voice. And it’s a lot of fun just to hear them talk about him, his quirks (the entire schedule is built around his preferring to start the day at 4 pm and he is constantly munching on popcorn). The best moments are just listening in on a conversation with comedy legends John Mulaney, Bill Hader, and Fred Armisen, or the comments from Conan O’Brien, writer Jim Downey (see the documentary about him), and Paul Simon. Mulaney, hyper-perceptive as always, tells the film’s most illuminating story.

We know, as we watch the archival footage, how many of those people have died. But there’s hardly any sense of how those losses affected him. We hear about the pressure to revitalize the show, but not what steps he took. Instead we hear him fretting about whether host Ryan Gosling has a doctor for his raspy throat. The other documentaries, the books about “SNL,” or any given episode of the show will tell you as much and be more entertaining.

Parents should know that this film has references to drinking and drug use.

Family discussion: What are some of your favorite “SNL” sketches and stars and why?

If you like this, try: the four documentaries celebrating the show’s 50th anniversary, especially the one from Questlove about the music.