The New Yorker at 100 operates under a probably safe assumption: that its impact on the viewer's life is fairly substantial. A documentary on one of the world's most notoriously erudite magazines written with the liberally educated in mind, probably won't be watched by someone not already predisposed to pick up an issue. The film, then, is hagiographic by design. With buzzy celebrities of both the literary and media landscapes as fawning talking heads, and with archival footage galore, Marshall Curry's Netflix documentary has almost a Bar-Mitzvah or wedding video feel, in which the only objective is to place its subject on the highest possible pedestal.

Which isn't to say these ninety-seven minutes aren't watchable or uninteresting, just superficial. As the title suggests, the film ha

See Full Page