Hannah Arendt (Margarethe von Trotta, 2012). Fifty years later, framed in a how-I-wrote-that-book narrative, studded with stagey impersonations (a William Shawn here, a Mary McCarthy there) and awkward expository dialogue, Arendt’s conclusions from the Eichmann trial seem entirely preposterous. Which was surely not the intention. New Yorker assignment sub-genre (Capote). The Heidegger connection should be/could be a whole other movie. Perhaps a better one.