Patrick Brennan’s review published on Letterboxd:
I think it'd be wrong to say a doc is only as interesting as its subject, but in some cases, a doc lives and dies with where the camera is pointed. Here, it's pointed at one of the greatest artists of the last 50 years, and the chance to see the sensual, almost sexual, process that goes into creating his often violent abstract works makes this movie worth seeing. Richter's perfectionism is fascinating to watch: any artist this side of Cezanne would kill to create something as dramatically beautiful as the paintings Richter whitewashes in what could be considered the film's climactic scene. When Belz attempts visual trickery, though, the movie stagnates, and the clear but somewhat grainy digital photography makes me mourn the death of 35mm even more. Sometimes it's better just to point and shoot.