Minding the Gap

"Minding the Gap" is a personal documentary of the highest sort, in which the film's necessity to the filmmaker-and its obstacles, its resistances, its emotional and moral demands on him-are part of its very existence.

As such, it possesses an intimacy that could never be acquired without years of shared experience, and heartache. And probably road rash.

It would be impressive even without the palpable sense of connection and understanding that Liu brings to the material, but its easygoing intimacy is what puts it over the top.

It's heartbreaking, raw, and true. But it never veers into exploitation or becomes oppressively maudlin.

An intelligent and compassionate grappling with some of the most painful issues presently haunting the body politic: toxic masculinity and domestic violence, economic depression and a deep, existential despair.

What starts as a raucous celebration of youthful freedom consciously expands to cover the bonds of friendship, racial identity, the hard slog of being responsible, and the generational after-effects of trauma.

This is one of the best and most affecting documentaries of the year... a tightly focused story that is both unnerving and empathetic at once.

A piercing excavation of the wide-reaching pain caused by domestic abuse.

Liu conveys the deeper, inner truth of the people he follows, sometimes simply by watching them skate around in silence.

There's something inexplicably soothing about the wide shots of the boys rolling along, spiraling down the levels of a parking garage or swerving around city streets at sunset.

Throughout Minding the Gap, Bing Liu masterfully uses his insider's access, managing to stay inside and outside of the material at once.

Minding the Gap not only announces the presence of a new filmmaker but delivers a strong coming-of-age documentary in the process.