Barry Avrich’s 2016 tell-all memoir is Moguls, Monsters and Madmen, titled to reflect the type of movers, kingpins and show-biz shakers who so fascinate him. As a documentary filmmaker, the 55-year-old Montreal native has profiled the likes of studio executive Lew Wasserman, Penthouse publisher Bob Guccione, Rolling Stones concert promoter Michael Cohl and the late Vanity Fair columnist, author and gadfly Dominick Dunne. With 2011’s Unauthorized: The Harvey Weinstein Story and 2018’s The Reckoning: Hollywood’s Worst Kept Secret, Avrich took two runs at the now-disgraced American film producer. Avrich is Christopher Plummer’s pal. He tells the best possible Lauren Bacall tales.

In short, he’s a player. With his latest film, however, Avrich points his lens at a relative unknown –a subject not salacious or celebrity-driven in the least. Opening Friday, Prosecuting Evil: The Extraordinary World of Ben Ferencz is the sobering and inspiring story of the last surviving prosecutor of senior Nazi officials at the Nuremberg Trials. Ferencz, a remarkably spry 99-yearold crusader, continues to campaign for international law and peace. Not only that, he did the unthinkable: He humbled Avrich.

“Making this film was lifechanging for me,” Avrich says over the phone. “I’ve made films about a lot of infamous people – a lot of people who weren’t so nice who had provocative stories. But this film asks, ‘What have you done for mankind today?’ We’re all passive observers of history, but Ben continues to throw himself in as not only a witness, but someone who wants to effect change. That has inspired me dramatically.”

After seeing Roman Polanski’s 2002 Holocaust biopic The Pianist, Avrich took a group of friends to Auschwitz. The story of Ferencz, however, was something he was unfamiliar with.

“I knew nothing of him at all,” admits Avrich, hardly alone.

He learned about Ferencz the same way many others did, by watching a segment last year on CBS’s 60 Minutes. “I’m still churning,” Ferencz told correspondent Lesley Stahl, on the verge of tears as he recalled his experience as the chief prosecutor of 22 commanders of Nazi death squads at trial number nine at Nuremberg.

Shortly after the broadcast, Avrich contacted Ferencz by phone. “You don’t know me, but I want to make a film about your life,” he told him. “Let’s do it,” was Ferencz’s unfussy reply.

“It was the most extraordinary interview I’ve ever done,” says Avrich, mentioning his past chats with Mick Jagger, Bono and the 11th Duke of Marlborough. “He could have stopped after Nuremberg, but he kept going, effecting change and staying vital and relevant.”

And, staying fit. After a 10-hour day of filming and interviews in Florida with Ferencz, Avrich suggested

coming back the following day to capture the nonagenarian swimming his daily laps in a retirement community pool. “Let’s do it now,” Ferencz insisted.

Avrich’s experience with Ferencz has caused a shift in his motivations. There are only so many Ferencz-level heroes around, but we might see fewer profiles from Avrich on, say, moguls,

monsters and madmen. “I expect I’ll be more selective,” says the prolific documentarian. “It’s partly because of Ben, but I think it’s also a maturity as a filmmaker. In the beginning, you rush for the provocative and to just get your camera in front of interesting people. I feel it’s time now for me to focus on stories that effect change.”