The new hybrid documentary "My Name Is Andrea" features a stunning collection of archival clips of speeches, radio interviews, television appearances in which the abrasive Dworkin eloquently, passionately, and uncompromisingly addresses women's status in American society.

This film includes texts and dramatic reenactments by actresses such as Ashley Judd and Christine Lahti, among others, playing Dworkin at key life moments, such as when she was raped and her first husband physically abused her. Many people assailed her as an ugly, fat, angry lesbian, even though she was primarily straight, married twice, the second time successfully to a gay man.

The documentary shows what a fearless fighter she was, despite facing death threats. Filmmaker Pratibha Parmar clearly views Dworkin as a misunderstood prophet, with hurt and outrage being her prime motivations, and implicitly argues her career needs to be reassessed and appreciated.

The problem is that Dworkin was enormously divisive and confrontative in her public appearances, especially on the issue of pornography, even denouncing the work of self-described feminist pornographers, which she saw as degrading to women. Both other feminists, leftists and queer peers critiqued her extreme positions. But you will find none of this criticism in the film.

This is one documentary that would've benefitted from a few talking heads, putting Dworkin in historical context. The dramatizations are heartfelt and powerful, but pale in comparison to Dworkin herself, who was her own best advocate.

The documentary does force the viewer to reconsider Dworkin as an underestimated force in American feminism, but a more honest evaluation of her pros and cons would significantly have strengthened the film's impact.

Moral ambiguity in a satirical parable, and dark comedy about gentrification and white guilt, reigns supreme in Idan Haguel's narrative Israeli film "Concerned Citizen." The movie cleverly focuses on the insidious interaction between privilege and prejudice in a gay 'enlightened' well-off couple (Ben and Raz) living in Neve Sha'anan, a migrant slum-ridden neighborhood in south Tel Aviv. They are in the process of seeking a surrogate for their planned child.

To improve the gritty surroundings, Ben plants a new fragile tree on his street. One night he looks outside his window and sees two young African immigrants leaning on the tree, almost breaking. Ben files a police complaint. He later observes one of the officers brutally beating one of the men, but does nothing, throwing him into a spiral of guilt that affects his self-understanding and relationship with Raz. The film raises the question of how tolerant we are, with a suppressed xenophobia uncomfortably rising to the surface, poking fun at liberal self-delusion.

The lead actors are a real-life couple and the immigrants in the movie are actual refugees from Sudan and Eritrea, which adds depth to the story. However, ultimately there are significant lapses in the screenplay. The movie is told almost totally from Ben's viewpoint, so we hardly hear from his partner Raz or the refugees' perspective. The ending is morally ambiguous, which some might find disturbing and not particularly emotionally satisfying.

The captivating local narrative short "Holding Moses" is the star attraction for LGBTQ+ viewers in this festival, and is in the Jews in Shorts: Documentary Program I. Butch queer woman and Broadway dancer Randi Rader has a child, Moses. Because of a rare genetic disorder, he was born profoundly disabled. Randi struggles with shock, fear, and grief, even wishing he would die quickly.