Ken Jaworowski

Leap! remains peppy as it sets its bar at a low-to-medium height then cheerfully clears it.

It was a prescient plan. Mr. Stern, a longtime Democrat, vowed to listen closely, and he seems to have kept his word. Though he doesn’t mask his expressions — usually astounded, though never mocking — he’s a genial interviewer, empathic, he says, even if he can’t be sympathetic.

The Most Unknown works best as inspiration to delve deeper into these disciplines, and as a celebration of science. And when the film comes up short, it still functions like an intriguing experiment: It doesn’t have to be entirely successful for you to learn something.

Call Her Ganda (“ganda” means “beautiful” in Tagalog) remains commendable for its focus on the case, and for its insistence that the crime against Ms. Laude not be forgotten.

Contrary to his delicious downer of a first film, the terrific “Big Fan,” Mr. Siegel doesn’t venture into risky areas here. He’s content to have these characters hang out in cars or at a diner while chewing the scenery and checking their beepers. If you came of age in the 1980s, that’s enough to enjoy.

Until it delivers an eye-rolling scene near the end, Miracles From Heaven is an unexpectedly effective tear-jerker. More surprising still, that late diversion doesn’t negate much of the movie’s early sincerity.

It’s an interesting mix, though a few of the interviews meander, and, except for the championship, there’s little sense of urgency onscreen.

With an overbearing score, Breaking In telegraphs almost everything that happens yet still provides several jolts amid its occasionally questionable twists. While the filmmakers aren’t exerting themselves to deliver anything other than a popcorn-seller, Ms. Union is working hard to keep you watching.

Mr. Mully’s actions speak for themselves, and his robust personality makes him a pleasure to listen to. If the film doesn’t always dig deeply into this man’s life, we still see the results of his efforts. Those are enough to admire.

The portraits drawn of these young people frequently feel half-finished.

Jerrold Tarog, the director, follows the same game plan as he did in “Heneral Luna,” with sweeping music and proud speeches (he wrote the script with Rody Vera). There are also some nice images of the lush Philippine countryside and of del Pilar’s troops.

Ms. Meeropol is steadfast in providing both sides of the story. That’s admirable, yet it can come across as uninvolving.

Though To Be of Service skips over specifics, the big picture is clear, and its overriding point well made: These dogs are saving the lives of those who’ve sacrificed so much. Every person profiled here deserves an immense amount of respect. Every animal, too.

Sometimes the effort here is more admirable than exciting.

There are several strong stories in The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson, a documentary that, in trying to tell them all, takes on too much.

Defying the Nazis: The Sharps’ War is a generic documentary about two people who were anything but. Yet even when the film wanes, its subjects still come across as remarkable.

Heavy with emotion yet light on information, 500 Years has the curious effect of being both passionate and pale. You may find yourself championing its subjects even while feeling confounded by the omission of details by its filmmaker.

Chasing Portraits is small and subtle, with some missed opportunities and occasionally inexpert filmmaking. But it’s not an insignificant effort, and Ms. Rynecki’s cause is admirable.

Because of its shortcomings, (T)error serves as evidence of a broken system rather than an indictment of it. Yet such evidence is worrisome and points to a threat to civil rights.

If you can look past the low-grade production values — and to do that you’ll need two awfully forgiving eyes — Reinventing Rosalee delivers a few rewards, thanks to its vibrant subject and her noteworthy life.

All the Rage overrides most of its shortcomings by keeping a breezy tone and by showing Dr. Sarno to be a convincing speaker, as well as an affable and somewhat crusty character.

This is a film too enamored of its subject to pry very deeply. And yet, it’s hard not to be enamored as well, as Pavarotti’s larger-than-life personality shines in almost every scene.

Trainin’s film spends a good deal of its running time surveying the emotions that affect everyone here, including the Tsuk children. Yet there’s quite a bit left unexplored; after the start, the director rarely returns to examine Amit’s past or seek insights into Amit’s inner self.

Bikini Moon is better in separate scenes than as a whole, where Manchevski’s overreaches and plot lapses become more glaring. In this film, the harshest truths — make that “truths” — are best served in small doses.

By making you feel deeply for his sister and her children, Valdez has fashioned his film to make the lapses less glaring.

As its energetic early scenes give way to a sluggish second half, you start to sense how much better this good-enough movie might have been.

This is a film unafraid to look at [Burden's] acts, but timid when approaching his ideas.

The obvious problem with its subject-says-all approach is the lack of outside voices and perspective. This is a broad summation of the man, not a critical look at his policies.