About Scout is a fantasy of escape rooted in the harshly lit realities of life.

A Space Program may find cheeky humor in our quest for meaningful science. But it certainly hints that there's something worshipful in the details.

The end result admittedly favors tone over substance, accentuated by Jeff Grace’s playful, mock Morricone score and character turns that affectionately flirt with conventions without giving way to outright parody.

Make no mistake: This film is a tear-jerker, taking an intimate look at one family's heartbreak and how their art moves people.

Although their extreme staycation is obviously not everybody's idea of a swell time, the bracingly gorgeous images and meditative serenity still offer a vicarious respite from all those urgent headlines and deadlines — no bear spray required.

In Jensen's uniquely wacky world, there's a genuine affection for his offbeat characters.

Life is efficiently constructed to unsettle audiences. It demonstrates both the pleasures and the limitations of doing a skillful job with familiar genre material.

Refreshingly dark and sick, this is a movie for those who like cinematic monsters that hit so hard they leave a mark.

The result may not be much more than an exercise in craft, a skillful demonstration of all the games you can play with long takes, moving cameras, blurred focus and cavernous pools of darkness. But craft is hard to overrate these days, and Sandberg’s technique, far from feeling assaultive or bludgeoning, has the effect of heightening your concentration.

Bello gives a tremulous wacko-mom performance from which she has eliminated every whisper of camp. She’s both sympathetic and infuriating, and her scenes with her daughter hint at a more painful, complicated emotional history than the movie has time to explore, though it’s nice that it bothers to explore it at all.

Within the doc's brief running time, Lambert sculpts a discerning overview of the artist and her filmography.

Cafe Society is of course funny, but it also ends up, almost without our realizing it, trafficking in memory, regret and the fate of relationships in a world of romantic melancholy where, as someone says, "in matters of the heart, people do foolish things."

On its own unpretentious, unapologetically pleasure-seeking terms, “The Shallows” has enough to recommend it — not least the fact that you could watch it twice in roughly the same amount of time it would take to watch “The Revenant,” and with little appreciable loss in adrenaline or poetry.

A trapeze enthusiast himself, Moore is not shy about displaying his passion. His shambling, amiable film has a tendency to wander and digress, sometimes effectively, sometimes not. But its core of balletic trapeze footage is always gripping.

Though Art Bastard is a zesty, engaging documentary about a veteran outsider, when it comes to his complexities, it’s not terribly cohesive.

Offering more than a portrait of a woman about town, Rokah gradually exhumes the hardship of surviving the streets of Los Angeles for four decades and the associated stigma and shame that have prevented Haist from reaching out to family.

Director Barry Strugatz, a screenwriter best known for 1988’s “Married to the Mob,” has crafted a brief but disarmingly cordial tribute to an overlooked Tai Chi “sifu” who didn’t believe in kowtowing to convention.

There's lots of throwback fun to be had from Kill Me, Deadly, a lovingly mounted and performed film noir spoof that evokes "The Big Sleep" by way of "The Naked Gun" and "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid."

Minn's homegrown filmmaking style creates an absorbing intimacy and urgency. But placing Leyzaola's story within a broader national, even international context may have helped further illuminate Mexico's complex, at times contradictory system of crime and punishment.

Mostly, just as “SPL” did with Yen, this sequel serves as an ideal showcase for talented martial artists. Kill Zone 2 watches with awe as Jaa and Wu move with balletic force. There’s grace within their violence.

A thoughtful, nuanced examination of a complex thinker.

"Mother" is definitely worth a look as an involving exercise in parental indiscretion, unexamined and over-examined lives, and a nostalgic look at East Coast Jewish culture.

The shared love of the movie's featured racers for their long-rebellious sport makes for a unifying energy, but their individual experiences — and different attitudes toward the future — provide an underlying complexity.

Baya Medhaffar inhabits the role of Farah with a blazing exuberance that’s matched by a dynamic sense of place. Director Leyla Bouzid may struggle to shape her narrative in the final reels, but through most of its running time her first feature pulses with in-the-moment vitality.

Wedding Doll is a small film with a unique take on coming of age and finding one's own place in a world that's often unwelcoming to people who are different.

This lively and engaged documentary lives up to its name.

Hockney is less interested in providing a conventional top-to-bottom narrative than in capturing a sense of who Hockney is and what is important to him.

Even if its trajectory hews to a well-worn format, Keepers of the Game is as strong an argument that can be made for the rich emotional rewards of schoolgirls hitting the field to show everyone and themselves what they can achieve.

Mama maestro Andy Muschietti directs this visually splendid but thematically toned-down interpretation with finesse, crafting a world rich in detail where menace lurks in every shadow.

The film could have used more social, cultural and geographical context. Still, this is such a moving, evocative and rare assemblage of souls, we’re grateful for its existence.

Under the steady hand of writer-director Mark Elijah Rosenberg, tension and pathos build, slowly sweeping us along with the captain’s fraught yet hopeful exploration.

After an opening 10 minutes that promises something depressingly mediocre, the film takes a turn to the atmospheric and gruesome, and winds up being one of the year’s more provocative shockers.

An insightful and wildly entertaining look at the wrestlers who ply their trade south of the border.

Despite clocking in at a scant 70 minutes, the troubled-youth drama Memoria manages to make a hauntingly poetic impression.

Fans of blood and guts won’t find what they’re looking for here (until the final 10 minutes, that is); but serious-minded genre fans should feel satisfied.

By the end you may feel moderately relieved and more than a little creeped out, but you may also wish that this undeniably compelling documentary had done more than lightly brush the surface.

Director Stephanie Soechtig’s passionately contended, slickly produced film may not sway the most fervid 2nd Amendment defenders, but in its problem-solving vigor could spur a lot of others who believe in change to make that call, join that group, or vote a certain way.

While a film like Serial Killer 1 may disappoint anyone expecting “Bullitt” or “Lethal Weapon,” its focus on legwork and motivation could well appeal to fans of “Law & Order” — the TV show and the social construct.

Almost Holy captures something meaningfully urgent in the brutal day-to-day of tough love amid a world of tougher indifference.

Although it’s an often repellant, uneven film that, in the end, doesn’t amount to a whole lot, there’s something thrilling and a bit liberating about the anarchic vibe that permeates this stylized walk on the wild side.

When I, Daniel Blake regrettably piles it on at the end, it’s Loach growing weary of humanizing details and desperate to shake you up with consequences, didacticism and speechifying. It’s the finger-pointer in him, but as this movie frequently shows in its best moments, he’s still a practiced veteran at open-arms affection for the dignity of the downtrodden.

Forcing their usual ethical query into the structure of a whodunit, the Dardennes have emerged with a narrative that, as compelling as it is, can also feel prosaic and even a bit predictable, especially in the overly aggressive melodrama of the closing scenes.

Though the combination of social critique and unhinged laughs doesn’t always jell, the movie is quite gloriously a thing unto itself, even as it draws upon obvious inspirations.

Despite the overwrought stylization, the heart of Seoul Searching does ultimately emerge: a tender story that’s more about the high stakes of youthful connection than culture, proving that this universal tale transcends borders.

At the Fork serves up an even-handed perspective on the subject of eating ethically.

Like their Oscar-nominated “A Cat in Paris” (2010), Phantom Boy by Jean-Loup Felicioli and Alain Gangol is a modest, engaging film that reminds viewers of the intimate pleasures of drawn animation in an era of CG blockbusters.

“Girl” is a welcome reminder that animation doesn’t have to be synonymous with realistically rendered CG, but can be a means of artistic expression as uniquely personal as a signature.

Atomic Blonde may be a delirious exercise in outré nonsense, but it can also be a brutally effective action picture when the inspiration strikes.

Misconception proves a smart, vital and absorbing portrait.

The success of “The Absent One,” like its Department Q predecessor, ultimately rides on the shoulders of Kaas’ intriguing Morck.

An intriguing audio-visual sense, deft editing and Shawkat’s committed performance elevate this strangely watchable film.

[Pappas] and co-director and co-writer Jeremy Teicher have created a funny, sweet movie that explores the struggles of a serious athlete without alienating those whose sneakers are gathering dust in the closet.

Denial periodically plays like a standard-issue drama. But because Hare's script grapples with serious themes and singular events whose ramifications are still being felt, it is effective when it counts.

The film may struggle to take flight, but when it does, it is undeniably moving, with a message of freedom and defiance that resonates now more than ever.

While Adult Life Skills could often use more focus, it digs deep to achieve a sense of catharsis, and as a woman who's trying to be invisible, but can't isolate herself forever, Whittaker (currently the Doctor on “Doctor Who”) carries the film.

After a strong start, Shelley becomes frustratingly vague in the middle, before rebounding with a finale that makes the implicit menace more explicit.

Even as you recognize echoes of Woody Allen, Noah Baumbach and Todd Solondz here, Pritzker has a good ear for authenticity, and he draws terrific performances from a cast.

It’s pleasurable enough to see Skarsgård and especially Peña, so often cast as a genial second banana, taking pride of place in their own vehicle, even if this one fails to make the most of their considerable chemistry.

It’s an inspiring portrait of a truly feminist mode of art.

There truly is no business like show business, and Ovation perfectly captures that.

It's hardly the first or last time Hollywood has plundered one of its own long-dormant properties, but it's also a reminder that not every resurrection has to feel like a desecration.

Energizing the entire film, in fact powering us past its more conventional aspects, is the compelling performance of veteran German actor Burghart Klaussner, who captures Bauer’s firebrand intensity exactly.

There’s no overarching life-story chronology; biographical details emerge in bits and pieces. The director doesn’t wring maudlin tears from her subject’s ordeal, in part because Jones never asks for pity.

The key to the fun is that Yeon eschews lookie-loo gore for thrilling set pieces: his fleet, imaginative action scenes recall Brad Bird’s crisp transition to real people in peril when he made his “Mission Impossible” movie.

This enchantingly strange movie couldn’t possibly be called naturalistic, but at times, it feels somewhat disappointingly normalized.

Citizen Soldier makes for an honorable addition to the densely populated modern war film field.

Rapace’s daring performance and Shainberg’s unique approach make Rupture a surprising slice of schlock that you won’t soon forget.

As an ensemble movie, The Commune isn’t the most gripping, but when it zeroes in on Dyrholm’s affecting portrayal, it’s like Tolstoy’s famous line about the uniqueness of unhappy families, poignantly adapted for group living.

Lace Crater is a thoroughly modern ghost story that creeps into camp, testing the audience as it wavers between terrifying and deadpan funny.

Like the man himself, Floyd Norman: An Animated Life is genial on the surface but lets us go a little deeper into an unusual life than we might have expected.

The music is so strong, and such a demonstration of how potent the group was in action, that it alone makes the film worth seeing.

The greatest strength of Office Christmas Party is its casting. If you’ve got fabulous weirdos Kate McKinnon and T.J. Miller in lead roles, there are bound to be more than enough laughs.

Although Planetarium may not wholly satisfy as the kind of statement film it so ambitiously aims to be, this intriguing drama, confidently directed by Rebecca Zlotowski (who co-wrote with Robin Campillo) proves a singular, at times haunting experience.

A United Kingdom is traditional, well-made cinema, with a taste for the obvious at certain points, but it has some powerful advantages. These include its remarkable story (Susan Williams’' book "Colour Bar" was a primary source), plus a director who knows how to convey its essence and a superior cast whose presence elevates the material.

Watching an actress of Hunter’s caliber in a meaty leading role partly compensates for the creaky plot and overearnest tone.

The punk and metal music-infused soundtrack belies the film’s largely gentle approach to a series of small, evocative and well-played moments that combine to slowly heal the Lunsfords and prove that you can go home again.

Ultimately, When Two Worlds Collide has a breathless urgency to it, even if its structuring of events feels a bit ramshackle, and the directness of its environmental warnings feel no different than a thousand other message docs.

While writer-director-star Anna Biller often strikes an uneasy balance between camp and spoof, milks the jokes either too much or too little, and isn't a good enough actress to play a bad one (the performances here are purposely arch or vacuous), she's concocted a curio that's as watchable for its intended awfulness as for the morbid curiosity it prompts about what will come next.

For viewers fascinated by punk's buffoonish energy and its slashing, guerrilla warfare against pop culture, Sid and Nancy offers a compelling portrait of two pathetic souls who overdosed on pain and unhappiness.

Incorporating fluid flashbacks and snippets of narration that refreshingly serve to enhance rather than distract, director-writer Hannes Holm maintains a gentle, lyrical flow while coaxing fine performances from a diverse cast.

Matthiesen offers no easy answers, but The Model paints a decidedly unglamorous picture, while pulling back the curtain on the exploitative realities of the business.

Downriver is the kind of graceful provocation that slips around a corner before you can pinpoint its intentions, and that keeps it arresting as both an inquiry and a character study.

One wishes Bernstein had more cleanly presented the arc of Purcell’s life and career and how her representative eye evolved. Nevertheless, the sheer number of images shown gives this brisk foray into Purcell’s work an admirable guided-tour feel.

A movie like Ben-Hur, while almost never stirring or imaginative in the way that the true epics of Griffith or Gance or Kurosawa are, nevertheless has a basic appeal.

Is there a point to all these cheeky meta-shenanigans? Not really. Yet it’s hard not to share Morelli’s delight in the possibilities of an impossible story structure, and if the final work feels inevitably uneven, that’s less a flaw than a feature — a testament to the visual and tonal distinctiveness of the movie’s individual parts.

The parameters of homeland security are chillingly assessed in Do Not Resist, a troubling documentary examining the escalating militarization of the nation’s police forces.

As always with Greenwald, it’s refreshing that he doesn’t simply indulge in fear-mongering. He has the resources and the research team to sort through lots of data, culling the relevant points and encouraging action.

Daum acts as a thoughtful onscreen guide to what the picturesque hillsides and its stone remains represent.

Chuck is, in certain ways, not unlike its flawed hero: a lot of personality, just enough ambition, more interested in a good time and simple insight than a lasting impression.

The grim economic realities behind such trafficking are glancingly acknowledged. There’s real impact, though, in the anger and grief of law enforcement officials and conservationists when their tracking leads them to elephant carcasses.

It’s a movie that ultimately may mean more to those raised in heavily Catholic cultures, but it has an engaging prickliness as a satiric peek into the life of a brooding idealist.

Before the Flood is neither dull screed nor stat-heavy pamphlet, thanks largely to the questing intensity of its marquee guide.

Director Kijak deserves credit for constructing an engaging narrative that will have the uninitiated crossing their arms in an X in solidarity by the end.

Catfight is the type of blackly comic film that works to alienate some viewers with its over-the-top approach and its unlikable characters. But those who enjoy its dark humor will cackle with mean-spirited delight.

Neither Hathaway nor the script makes any overt bids for the audience’s sympathy in Colossal, which may explain why they earn it so handily.

The hyper-dramatic touches help disguise that this is essentially a film about paperwork. The rest of the weight is carried by Fan, who’s funny and heartbreaking. She’s a hero for our times: a stubborn woman, willing to inconvenience the powerful to get a fair hearing.

As externalized visions of high school hellishness go, Shaw’s doesn’t always translate into the most cohesively entertaining of mash-ups, but his techniques are attention-grabbers.

While the plot is skimpy, the performances are rich, which turns Prevenge into a series of satirical sketches, dissecting the social dynamics between a mother-to-be and the various men and women who think they have an advantage over her.