Some of the documentaries I see at the festival don’t really fit into any of the themed groupings I create for reviews, while others are films I disliked so much that I leave their reviews for last so as not to taint the filmmakers’ Hot Docs exposure/coverage. These are those.
Code of Misconduct (5/8)
Fittingly unfolding like a courtroom drama, this doc from director Sébastian Trehan chronicles the high-profile London, Ont., trial of five Canadian World Junior hockey players accused of sexual assault by a young woman known only as “E.M.” More broadly, it also examines the issues of privilege and consent, and explores the often-toxic hockey culture that can breed bad behavior. Journalist Rick Westhead, who broke the story, is at the center of the action, recounting his take on events alongside some of the tertiary players (E.M.’s civil lawyer, one of the detectives on the case, etc.). And while the documentary provides an end-to-end recap of what happened, there isn’t really anything new to be gleaned here. There are no interviews with E.M. or any of the accused, no shocking revelations, and I found the (general) investigation into athletes behaving badly more interesting than rehashing a trial that saturated the news for so long as it is. Note: If you missed the film at Hot Docs, you can catch it when it premieres on Super Channel in Canada on May 8.
Gimme Truth (4/8)
If you’re looking for profiles of a handful of conspiracy theorists, this is the film for you. But if you’re hoping for a documentary that examines conspiratorial thinking or explores how and why people can get so wrapped up in their beliefs that they ignore science and fact, then you (like me) may be disappointed here. Co-directed by Brad Abrahams and Simon Ennis, the doc introduces viewers to several “truth seekers,” including a well-known hardcore vaccine skeptic who’s amassed a loyal following, and a former QAnon follower who deprogrammed herself after becoming disillusioned with the movement’s direction. While there are brief mentions of a link between extremism and conspiratorial beliefs, the filmmakers never challenge any of their subjects or engage in any meaningful discussion, which gives the proceedings a weirdly promotional, unserious vibe… and gives some of those subjects yet another platform to spread potentially dangerous misinformation.
In Tyee Country (5/8)
This quirky but (like fishing!) somewhat slow and subdued documentary is equal parts small-town story and environmental film. At the crux is the Tyee Club of British Columbia, which was founded in 1924 but is experiencing an existential crisis because of the increasing scarcity of the 30-pound (or more) Chinook salmon anglers are required to land in order to secure their club membership. Without the fish, there will be no new members… and without new members, the club will eventually become extinct. Featuring interviews with several long-time members, who review the club rules and recount stories of some of the enormous salmon (including a 64-pounder!) caught over the years, the doc from co-directors Jevan Crittenden and Nate Slaco also examines the reasons behind the Chinook’s decline in size and number, which include climate change and industrial development. But because the gist of the documentary is simply “a bunch of sport fishers won’t be able to keep their somewhat restrictive club afloat,” it’s kind of hard to generate sympathy or emotional investment in the outcome (there’s no resolution by film’s end, btw), and it all left me feeling kind of meh.
The Last Days of April (3/8)
Lemme begin by saying: to me, the title and marketing of this documentary are misleading, and the whole project gives new meaning to “the long goodbye.” I was sold a film about a disability advocate struggling to get approval for MAID (medical assistance in dying), but what I got was a doc about April Hubbard, a queer, non-binary activist in Halifax, who lives with chronic pain due to an array of medical issues and who says they want MAID… who tells their family and friends they’re planning to end their life if/when it gets to be too much… and who then becomes the recipient of an unending tsunami of love and support and attention… but — SPOILER ALERT — who’s still content and living a good life (and not in any hurry to end it all) by the closing credits. Spanning several years and several presented-as-poignant moments of “well, folks, this is my last [insert event here]” (hold for audience tears)… which, instead, turn out to not be the last … the film feels emotionally manipulative and self-indulgent, with very little of it actually documenting Hubbard’s quest for MAID approval and most of it consisting of assorted individuals telling Hubbard (and the audience) how brave/amazing/whatever they are because they think the end might be near… only to discover it’s not, over and over again. For me, the sole compelling and clear-headed voice in the entire film is Andrew Gurza, a podcaster and disability advocate (and friend of Hubbard’s) who, in my opinion, asks all the right questions and raises all the good (challenging) points. For a much better film about MAID as it pertains to the disabled, I’d recommend director Reid Davenport’s Life After, which I saw at Hot Docs last year. Skip this one.
Searching for Drug Peace (5/8)
Guaranteed to generate discussion and debate, director Alisher Balfanbayev’s doc introduces audiences to Vancouver drug-reform activist and Coca Leaf Cafe proprietor Dana Larsen, who sells LSD, mushrooms, marijuana and assorted psychedelics out of his dispensary, and who’s on a mission to have the sale of hard drugs (think: cocaine, heroin and meth) decriminalized as a way of, he says, combatting the opioid crisis. Through what seems like a perpetual haze of marijuana smoke (seriously, there’s more weed smoked in this film than in the entire Cheech & Chong oeuvre), the film follows Larsen and his colleagues as they interact with customers, campaign at a 420 Day event, and try to make their case for the open sale of illicit drugs. Meanwhile, anti-drug activists and researchers explain all the reasons that this is a terrible idea. Generating more questions than answers, the film and its undeniably charming and persuasive subject will likely be received differently depending on who’s watching. To me, Larsen doesn’t really come off all that well, and there seems to be a big disconnect between what he thinks he’s doing and what he’s actually achieving: throughout the film, he and his supporters claim that they’re trying to “save lives,” but — save for a Test Your Drugs initiative that checks for fentanyl — there’s no actual evidence of that in the film. Instead, either intentionally or not, Larsen comes off as more of an opportunist than an altruist, and someone who’s identified a novel way to cash in on people craving a fix.
The Tower That Built a City (5/8)
A must-see for architecture aficionados and history buffs, but kind of uneven on the whole, director Mark Myers’ love letter to Toronto’s CN Tower is sort of two movies in one. The first half of the doc is a fascinating and comprehensive look back at the design, engineering and construction of the tower in the 1970s, featuring a wealth of amazing archival footage from the era, and interviews with some of the architects, designers and engineers involved in the tower’s inception and erection. The latter half, though, feels like a promotional video from the city’s tourism board, chronicling Toronto’s evolution from conservative Hogtown to cosmopolitan “the 6ix,” with local luminaries — including media personalities Moses Znaimer and George Stroumboulopoulos, rapper Kardinal Offishall, former Leaf Doug Gilmour, and director Caitlin Cronenberg — chiming in with their love for the city they call home. Nonetheless, it’s a film that will educate audiences on one of Canada’s most notable landmarks, and give Torontonians a sense of pride over how much the city has grown over the past 40-ish years.
And, with that, my 2026 Hot Docs-ing comes to a close! I leave the fest as I do every year: exhausted, but with a brain that’s grown at least five sizes thanks to everything I’ve learned from all the films I saw. See you at Hot Docs 2027!
Check out the rest of Moviepie’s coverage of Hot Docs 2026 here!
