If the work of Errol Morris and Michael Moore have taught us anything, it's that documentaries haven't been taking a snooze in history class for some time. The genre has grown much more dynamic in the past few decades, with more stylized presentations that remain respectful of their subject matter and an increasingly diverse array of covered topics. Documentaries maintain the power to inform audiences and enrapture them as well as fictional narratives, while catching us up on the history behind those things near and dear to our hearts of providing glimpses into worlds we may only be barely familiar with. The Warner Archive Collection has a number of titles within its expansive library that fit this criteria, especially when it comes to show business. Whether you're a fan of Warner Bros. animation, slapstick humor, or punk rock, the three documentaries I had the pleasure of sitting down with recently should do just the trick in piquing your interest.

BUGS BUNNY SUPERSTAR (1975)
 
Interviews, vintage home movies, and classic cartoons provide insight into the making of Warner Bros.' most timeless animated characters. For a puff piece that only begins to pierce its subject's surface, Bugs Bunny Superstar has been successful at courting controversy since its release. In putting animation veteran Bob Clampett front and center as host (in exchange for delving into his treasure trove of archived materials), some fans and industry figures felt that the film allowed him to assume more importance in "Merrie Melodies" history than he's due. The flick can sure leave that sort of impression, as Clampett's brief tales about the good old days tend to glaze over a lot of details. His reminiscing is as deeply as Bugs Bunny Superstar cares to explore its undeniably rich topic, filling the rest of the time with no less than nine cartoons shown in their entirety. But if viewed as a "greatest hits" compilation with a little extra background information, the movie can be rather engaging; those blasts from animation's past are as funny as ever, and it's not as though the picture has no interesting tidbits to impart. Though a saga of Ken Burns proportions is more befitting of Warner's history in cartoons, Bugs Bunny Superstar covers the ground it does with love, admiration, and a fine-tuned funny bone.

THE LOST STOOGES (1990)
 
Narrated by film critic Leonard Maltin, this documentary focuses on the period in the '30s when Moe, Larry, and Curly were funnymen on MGM's payroll. Though modern viewers might see it as a glorified DVD bonus feature, The Lost Stooges was really something back in the day. Lest you be a hardcore Stooges fan, cinema historian, or old enough to remember the original shorts, you weren't likely to have seen the rare footage that this comedy chronicle culls together. Maltin takes viewers through not only the numerous bit parts that the trio and one-time boss Ted Healy were called on to play but also the one-reel farces in which they cut their big-screen teeth. In all fairness, the charm of watching these capers has been lessened by the recent release of Warner Archive's own Classic Shorts from the Dream Factory: Volume 3, which presents all of said vignettes in their complete, original forms. Nevertheless, this movie succeeds just fine as a quick little history lesson, with Maltin's engaging enthusiasm for the gang shining through and the team's antics still garnering giggles even in clip show format. The Lost Stooges is an entertaining crash course in Slapstick 101, an affectionate and informative look at what three comedy icons were up to before they really took off.

URGH! A MUSIC WAR (1981)
 
All over the world, over thirty punk, reggae, and new wave acts perform in this time capsule of the early '80s music scene. As its title aggressively suggests, Urgh! A Music War is a film bursting with sound and youthful fury to spare. It's as pure a concert movie experience as you're likely to get; there are no interviews with the featured artists between sets, nor do we really hear any commentary on the performances from those in attendance. Urgh! simply throws up a title card telling us who's playing and where they are, before quickly moving on to the next tune. The lax form and absence of insight into the musicians may not seem very fulfilling to some, but the energy expressed and sheer variety on display more than make up for it. One moment, Gary Numan tools about on stage in a futuristic go-kart, and the next, the members of Athletico Spizz 80 jam their hearts out in a no-frills club setting. Stagehands remain at the ready to shove rowdy concertgoers back into their mosh pits, and the fashions range from typically bright '80s colors to pants so tight, viewers are one wrong gyration away from seeing more of their wearer than we'd care to. The picture also serves as a fascinating yearbook of sorts, giving us a look at which bands would soon find fame (The Police, Devo) and which would settle into underground obscurity (The Members, Skafish) when they were all on roughly equal footing. Urgh! A Music War is loud, ungainly, very rough around the edges...and the flick couldn't be more proud of it.

(Bugs Bunny Superstar, The Lost Stooges, and Urgh! A Music War are available on DVD from the Warner Archive Collection.)