Pans to the left and right of faded memories, recreating forgotten frames with old technologies (8mm) to make them vital again. But the newly refurbished memories are just as jagged, incomplete, and melancholic as the old ones. Polley is using the docu/fiction hybrid to create a never-ending dance between perspectives, judgments, realizations, personalities, and genres, each and every one competing with the other in perfect harmony. In essence, the closest the Cinema can come to representing the tangled limbs of a family tree.

"i swatted my fly!"

yes. unremarkable by nature, remarkable by design. Kiarostami 101, but indelibly articulates schism of being / remembering.

works in spite of itself, at times. but then again, don't we all?

also, it may not really count, but Polley includes what i'd like to consider to be the greatest credits stinger of all time.

I cried ALL THE TEARS IN THE WORLD. A beautiful and personal film that made my throat hurt, meticulously crafted, meta but not ironic, completely life affirming without being corny. One of the best films of the year.

Drags a bit near the end, but the story (and the way it's told) is fascinating.

My DCist blurb: The actress and director Sarah Polley’s documentary about her family seems straightforward enough from its blandly generic title. But it earns its humorously melodramatic silent movie score. Polley’s film begins as she ushers her father, actor Michael Polley (Baron Munchausen) into a recording studio to read the movie’s narration about her late mother, actress Diane Polley. The drama that unfolds reveals how much is hidden underneath the appearance of a normal life. As other family members and talking heads appear, Polley edits home movies and curiously apt footage that we assume is vintage. Then the family story takes an unexpected turn. I had mixed feelings about Polley's last fiction feature, Take This Waltz, which boasted strong performances and tone, but suffered from an unbelievable script. That plot has nothing on Stories We Tell, whose real life twists and conflicts are deftly told in a manner that is both complex and watchable.

SO much more interesting and moving than I ever imagined. This film is further evidence that Sarah Polley is simply a great filmmaker.

That rare film that operates as well on an emotional level as it does on an academic one. Sneaks up on you in ways you don't even realize until the feelings are as tangible as they seem for the storytellers you're watching. Beautiful stuff, cementing Sarah Polley as one of the most gifted young filmmakers around.

Ambitious and smart and everything I wanted it to be.

Pans to the left and right of faded memories, recreating forgotten frames with old technologies (8mm) to make them vital again. But the newly refurbished memories are just as jagged, incomplete, and melancholic as the old ones. Polley is using the docu/fiction hybrid to create a never-ending dance between perspectives, judgments, realizations, personalities, and genres, each and every one competing with the other in perfect harmony. In essence, the closest the Cinema can come to representing the tangled limbs of a family tree.

This subtly impersonal investigation into a family mystery isn't about reopening wounds so much as recalling secrets with a cheerful sense of nostalgia — it's less intimate than "overshare-y." Once Polley shows her hand — which is covered is a layer of meta-cinematic tricks that have been used before, but maybe never in a story with stakes this low — this small-scale documentary becomes mildly invigorating. But up to that point it's closer to an episode of American Masters than American Movie. The fluidity of ideas like truth and memory are some of the most potent in all of storytelling, and Polley agrees — she addresses those in Away From Her — but, to be perfectly blunt, Rashomon this ain't. Also, like most family inside jokes, this is filled with stuff that's not funny but "funny."

Review to come, but it was great, and Sarah Polley answered my question after, so that was neat.

In different circumstances, I mighta cried, but this time around I just found myself feeling whole.