Ken Jaworowski

It’s an artful and lyrical assembly.

Sad, tender and quietly moving, The Departure never says more than it needs to, much like its subject, a Buddhist priest who counsels those contemplating suicide.

The energy here is controlled, the mood reflective. These character-driven songs are populated by the washed-up and the run-down — an aging actor, a hitchhiker — and the shared themes are remembrance and regret.

It’s an important story, made more intense by its tight focus.

Summer in the Forest is an extraordinarily tender documentary that asks what it means to be human. Here, even the most gentle scenes raise mighty questions.

The film, directed by Mikkel Norgaard (who’s borrowed a thing or three from David Fincher) and first released in Denmark in 2013, often focuses on research rather than on gunplay, yet somehow it still feels filled with action. That’s a testament to its lead actors.

A remarkably enjoyable, and sometimes very funny, documentary about a frightening topic.

If there aren’t many big laughs here, there are enough smiles to make the time pass pleasantly enough.

The filmmakers rarely delve into the spiritual aspects of the story, but that’s O.K. You don’t have to believe in Padma and Urgain’s religion to believe in them.

The filmmakers supply terrifying footage: At civilian rallies, we see nightstick beatings and bloody riots. During military battles, bullets whiz by and explosions shake the cameras. Nerve-racking scenes follow Ukraine’s extraordinarily bold volunteer soldiers.

Sure, the filmmakers overdo their work. But it’s all in the service of love, and somehow that makes it O.K.

While more information on the animals and their ecosystems is needed, the stakes described here are immense, as is the sorrow over majestic creatures massacred only so that their tusks can be made into baubles.

Try as it might, sadness still can’t get the best of The Rest I Make Up, a lyrical and lovingly made documentary about the playwright María Irene Fornés, which recalls her career and follows her over several bittersweet years as Alzheimer’s steals her memories.

While those seeking interplanetary scenarios may want more details, fans of endurance stories will be pleased. Indeed, Passage to Mars has the effect of making a trip to another world appear almost secondary. The journey undertaken here seems nearly as frightful and fascinating.

This film isn’t always pretty, but its message is necessary.

There’s much to absorb throughout “The Spy Behind Home Plate,” and sometimes details speed by too fast or digressions go on a bit long. Still, Kempner’s passion for her remarkable subject is always evident.

Part scrappy, part sweet and wholly enjoyable, The Lost Arcade is a love letter to a vanished piece of New York, and a little wish for the future.

As lovely as the movie is to look at (and the final scene is exceptionally wonderful), it’s too oblique to concentrate its energies and sharpen its focus.

For sure, there are plenty of humorous moments here. But that underlying sadness is the most affecting aspect of the film.

You’ll have to wade through several topics to get to the heart of Legion of Brothers, but once you’re there, some intense stories make the effort worthwhile.

This roughly constructed yet passionate documentary isn’t shy about showing the massacre of elephants or about calling out the groups implicit in the killings. That bluntness and courage usually overrides the uneven filmmaking.

Making a Killing generates a disgust that can’t be shaken.

Even knowing the secret of A Gay Girl in Damascus doesn’t make this documentary any less tense. That’s a testament to Sophie Deraspe, a director who understands how to let a plot unfold.

Like a spare short story, this little indie nurtures a few simple emotions, then hopes its audience will stick around to share in them. I’m glad I did.

A tough and cleareyed look at how things are, rather than how we want them to be.

It’s appealing to adults and accessible to younger viewers. And it delivers an environmental message that is strong and serious while remaining encouraging and optimistic. That’s important to hear. The rest is just amazing to watch.

This formidable film is sometimes zealous to a fault: The credits cite more than 200 sources of archival material, from The Washington Post to YouTube channels. It’s a lot to take in, as names and numbers zip by, yet missing some of its points may be healthy. To explore every moment is to risk overdosing on outrage.

If all of Song of Lahore were as exciting as its ending, you’d need an hour afterward to catch your breath. It’s not, yet despite a lackluster start, this documentary redeems itself by the finale.