For many growing up in the ’70s and ’80s the nature documentary often meant soporific shows on birds and the African plain narrated by an upper-crust Englishman that you were forced to watch as “good for you” TV. In retrospect, it’s now easier to appreciate these meditative and sober films when compared to newer classics like Fox’s When Animals Attack! and the kinds of series that have crowded cable channels in a pointed attempt to energize the form. These new takes on the nature show often include lots of danger, slick graphics, and shocking video of bad weather and gross-out nature—but not much analysis of anything. Yet while Winged Migration and The March of the Penguins has certainly elevated the nature film to a narrative and aesthetic suitable for theatrical release, thankfully the last decade has also brought several epic TV nature series that build on classics such as David Attenborough’s The Shape of Life and The Blue Planet.

But of increasing importance is the role that the well-funded nature series takes in the diagnosis and analysis of nature in the broader sense. First, there is the possibility of a seven-part series like Evolution (or for that matter Carl Sagan’s Cosmos) coming under fire from the “intelligent design” crowd increasingly in control of funding for public TV; and second, there’s also the need for shows that dare to go outside a hermetic box of “nature” to consider what humans have wrought. From the global crisis in overdevelopment, pollution, global warming and water there is an increasingly fine line between the elegant description of the natural world (though most programs have always implied the fragility of it all) and the unavoidable exploration of sociopolitical causes and their consequences in nature.

While good recent examples—PBS’ POV films like Thirst about water and The Fire Next Time about community conflicts over the environment vs. the economy—come to mind, the disaster of Hurricane Katrina could be the turning point. Once the films and TV start rolling out, will we simply see the images we’ve already seen recycled on Killer Weather? Probably. But the worst natural disaster in US history has revealed unavoidable political missteps, severe irresponsibility in sustaining the coastal wetlands, an unbelievable lack of disaster preparation, not to mention racial and class disparity—all of which are very un-nature program topics. Will such a comprehensive disaster force those who dare to make a doc about killer hurricanes to cross into heavy socioeconomics? Perhaps this will happen if Michael Moore, as rumored, does take on Katrina in his next film. Then, as it may turn out, nature films—be they about science or the weather—may end up being not only challenging but highly controversial.

Congo: White King, Red Rubber, Black Death (opens October 21st at Quad Cinema)

To understand Africa you must understand the Congo and this film goes back into colonial times to show what King Leopold did to this huge country in the heart of that continent. While Leopold claimed to be a protector from Arab slave traders he amassed a personal fortune through brutal suppression and hording of rubber. Unfortunately, brutality begets brutality begets brutality. The Belgian government has denounced the film, which is more than a good enough reason to check it out.

New York Doll (opens October 28th at Angelika Film Center)

One of the wave of revisionist punk rock documentaries, New York Doll rather focuses on Arthur “Killer” Kane, the bassist for the legendary Dolls, who after the band broke up hit rock bottom and then ended up working at a genealogical registry for the Church of Latter Day Saints. Yes, he became a Mormon. The film follows the time leading up to the Dolls reunion show in the UK where Kane prays before going on while David Johansen chides him. The old biddies at the registry are priceless when they learn their coworker was a bad boy rocker and New York Doll in the end proves a touching portrait tinged with a warm kind of tragedy. The doc also includes Morrissey, Iggy, Mick Jones and Chrissie Hynde.