In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

Bill Cunningham is an influential and beloved fashion photographer working at the New York Times but very few people actually know him. He has been photographing the fashion seen on the streets for around 30 years. He rides his bicycle. He eats cheap food. He doesn't spend money on clothes. His small Spartan apartment is filled with file cabinets holding all his negatives. He doesn't care about money. He and his friend Editta Sherman are getting evicted. At his core, he is obsessed with fashion and photographing the changing style in New York. It's a fascinating portrait. It also doesn't shy away from the obvious personal questions. It comes later in the movie just as the lack of personal life starts to be prominent. It reveals the real person behind the camera.

Bill Cunningham can't be bought. He is there to observe and to take pictures, not to consume the fancy meal or mingle with the celebrities; a line which most individuals in his position would most likely blur. Bill has a section of the Sunday New York Times Style section where he will point out a new clothing trend he sees on the streets, what people were wearing at a recent evening gala, or just profile an interesting looking person. I used to skip over this section every week; however, now that I know about Bill from the excellent documentary Bill Cunningham New York, I will never skip over this section again.Even though Bill is now 80 years old, he still dons his signature blue jacket every day and rides his bicycle all over Manhattan searching and taking pictures. If it is raining, he will duct tape a garbage bag over his shirt. He is searching for interesting clothing and it does not matter if a celebrity is wearing them or not. A major separation between Bill and other photographers is he is just fine not taking a celebrity picture; he does not care at all about a person's fame level, just in their choice of clothing.Bill is usually the first to notice a new trend. While frequenting street corners, crosswalks, and the outside of department stores, he will immediately stop his bike (sometimes in the middle of traffic) to snap a few shots. During the first week of August, he happened to notice that a lot of New Yorkers were wearing black and made that a his column's focus. Bill has become a celebrity on his bicycle as he cruises the streets and there are many influential people, who Bill could care less about, who crave his attention. There are interviews from Anna Wintour, Tom Wolfe, and other very powerful people in the fashion industry who will also take time out of their day to find out what Bill knows.Even though he has the power to affect clothing trends, until very recently, Bill lived in Carnegie Hall as one of the few remaining visual artist tenants before the final lot of them were evicted to new premises. He slept on a cot in what could be described as closet space surrounded by dozens of file cabinets containing his life's work. If Bill thinks he has seen something before, he is pretty sure he can go back and find it. One example is of a designer who revealed a new collection only for Bill to find a 1972 photo montage of an eerily similar line.Bill Cunningham New York is a documentary I was not eager to see because I assumed it was just about the fashion world. I was completely wrong. It is not about fashion, it is just about Bill and his routine which is completely absorbing and perhaps the best documentary of the year. It is also the second documentary this year dealing with the New York Times released just before Page One: Inside the New York Times. Now that I have seen them both, there is a reason the story on Bill Cunningham is on the short list of 15 documentaries which are eligible for this year's Best Documentary Oscar. If it happens to win, it will not matter very much to Bill. He will be doing what he does every day, riding his bicycle to find the next interesting pair of shoes.

Once upon a time this reviewer was a photographer who rode a bicycle for work. I carried a camera always. Film, until digital became cheaper. Here we have a man in love with his city and his camera. Director Press (what an apt name!), who also photographs and cuts, sets out to draw a man. In doing so he puts a tiny figure into a broad panorama of what some would say is the cultural capital of the world. Could a Bill Cunningham exist anywhere else? OK, we spend a little time in Paris, but the flavor is New York. This reviewer knows New York, has been influenced by Paris with but fleeting visits. This film alludes to the work of Jean Luc Godard, a director of imagination. Amongst photographers, Paris and New York evoke images that stimulate and provoke.In my reviews I've been critical of hand-held camera work. Otherwise fine films, I believe, have suffered because the cinematographers have forgotten that viewers expect to see steady images. This film uses hand-held wisely, intercutting it with fixed scenes. There is a rhythm of busy, noisy shots interspersed with quiet, even contemplative material. This is an absorbing, thoughtful motion picture, telling a story of a "stills" master.As I walked out of the cinema, people chatted animatedly with strangers about what they had seen, a reaction I had not before seen. My own reaction was envy and admiration. Here was an octogenarian riding a bike, when I had had to give it up; a photographer productive and imaginative. Lovely and exciting.

I have lived in Manhattan for 32 years, 31 of them a very short walking distance from the corner of 57th and 5th, where Mr. Cunningham hunts his prey during the year. I have met him and seen him at work, but knew very little about him. This wonderful documentary not only shows Cunningham going after his shots, but is a wonderful window into the role of fashion and society in New York, with incredible images going back to the 1970s (and in some cases, even earlier). I admit that I cried for about 15 minutes in the beginning, so beautifully do the filmmakers create Cunningham's world -- and a New York I have had the privilege of experiencing. If you liked "The September Issue," or the recent Valentino or Yves St. Laurent documentaries, run don't walk to Bill Cunningham New York. And if you're a gay man of a certain age, bring Kleenex.