Tower Heist (PG-13, 2011, Universal)
Condominium building manager Josh Kovacs (Ben Stiller) has been a deeply loyal employee to the building’s obscenely rich owner (Alan Alda as Arthur), and the price for that loyalty is a Bernie Madoff-style swindle that wipes out his and his fellow employees’ pensions. That loss rates pretty low on the list of people Arthur wronged, which effectively wipes out any legal chance of recouping it. But then word leaks that Arthur is hiding a $20 million safety net in his tower penthouse, and you can see where this is going, right? Right. Think of “Tower Heist” as what “Ocean’s Eleven” would look like if Danny Ocean’s crew was a ragtag band of low-level employees and criminal amateurs instead of calm and collected old pros, because that’s essentially what it is. It’s louder, not as gifted in the clever writing department, and it prefers wacky set pieces (using the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade as a prop, for instance) over cunning twists. But “Heist” also is a silly good time with a loaded cast and enough charisma to make a lot of so-so situations funnier than they would be in lesser hands. Also helpful: Just about everybody in the group is likable on some level, while Alda’s gift of smug means Arthur most assuredly is not. Even if “Heist” doesn’t make you laugh much, it provides plenty of occasions to root for the little guys. Eddie Murphy, Casey Affleck, Gabourey Sidibe, Matthew Broderick, Téa Leoni and Michael Peña, among others, also star.
Extras: Filmmakers commentary, two alternate endings, deleted/alternate scenes, video diary, behind-the-scenes feature, bloopers, second screen content for tablets (Blu-ray only).

The Space Between (NR, 2010, Inception Media Group)
To call grizzled flight attendant Montine (Melissa Leo) caustic would be what we call an understatement. To wit: When a scared child flying alone (Anthony Keyvan as Omar) holes up in the lavatory so long that he falls asleep and reemerges well after his plane has landed and emptied, Montine’s first instinct is to chew him out before promptly taking a bite out of the sobbing fellow flight attendant responsible for the oversight. On a normal day, that would be the end of the episode. But Sept. 11, 2001 was, of course, no normal day, and with Omar’s flight grounded halfway to Los Angeles and his father out of reach in New York, the two are stuck with each other while bedlam ensues. You can guess one of “The Space Between’s” overriding themes the instant Omar — a Pakistani-American and devout Muslim — comes into focus. But “Between” eschews predictability by focusing overwhelmingly on Montine and Omar, both as individuals and extremely reluctant partners, while relegating the themes to background duty. Neither character is as simple as the outer shells imply — an amusing conversation about Elvis Presley, of all things, ensures that — and neither changes too much to comfort the other. If you’re waiting for Montine to devolve into a weepy bleeding heart, you’ll wait forever. And that’s fine, because the attention to detail “Between” pays to its two leads would only undermine itself by taking such easy ways out. No extras.

On the Bowery: The Films of Lionel Rogosin, Vol. 1 (NR, 1956, Milestone Film & Video)
Lionel Rogosin assembled “On the Bowery” by co-writing a semi-biographical screenplay, hiring his drinking buddies to act it out as themselves, and punctuating those scenes with documentary-style shots of New York’s skid row (known not-so-affectionately as The Bowery) in its unfiltered element. The story — three days in the recreational life of railroad worker Ray Salyer (playing himself) — offers no pretense whatsoever, and if “Bowery” released in 2012, we might call this an engaging low-concept indie film that takes the “Clerks” formula and gives it a bit of an uncomfortably truthful edge. But “Bowery” beat “Clerks” to the theater by 38 years, and that alone makes it considerably more special. More than just a story about some friends who really are friends, “Bowery” is a snapshot of a time and place few of us have ever seen in this light, and it’s just as much a snapshot of a filmmaker who put ideas in motion decades before they came into fashion. You can tell the cast isn’t professionally trained (to put it diplomatically), but the mere knowledge of “Bowery’s” back story makes their performances — and the subtly earnest tone of the script on the whole — a genuine treat to watch. Whether you prize film history, American history, or simply the chance to see something truly original unfold in front of you, this is not to be missed.
Extras: Two additional Rogosin films (“Good Times, Wonderful Times,” “Out”), an introduction to “Bowery” by Martin Scorsese, two retrospectives produced by Rogosin’s son Michael, the 1933 newsreel short “Street of Forgotten Men,” the 1972 documentary short “Bowery Men’s Shelter.”

I Ain’t Scared of You: A Tribute to Bernie Mac (NR, 2011, Image Entertainment)
For those fixing to see “I Ain’t Scared of You,” a little tip: If you don’t know what the title is referencing, do yourself a favor and don’t find out (or look at the back of the box) beforehand. “Scared” packs a dizzying amount of storytelling inside its slim 61-minute runtime, and while the account of that phrase’s origins has considerable company, it’s an easy contender for best story of the show. Even if you already know the details, “Scared” has such a blast with the recap that it may as well be new to you as well. That little thing about this being a tribute instead of a mere documentary cannot be overstated: A ton of familiar faces — from Chris Rock to Don Cheadle to Angela Bassett to Cameron Diaz to Bernie’s high school sweetheart wife and daughter — chime in, and their contagiously jubilant stories about Bernie’s talent, work ethic, authenticity, and relentless devotion to all whom he loved are wonderful testaments to a man who took the 50 short years he was given and made absolutely sure they counted and endured.
Extras: Bonus interviews and live performance footage, backstage at the Chicago Theatre.

Retreat (R, 2011, Sony Pictures)
If it’s true that you can’t truly appreciate life’s peaks unless you spend some time in the valley, some deliriously good times lie ahead for Martin (Cillian Murphy) and Kate (Thandie Newton) if they get out of “Retreat” alive. Too bad we can’t even imagine what that would look like. Martin and Kate venture to an isolated island retreat in hopes of overcoming a recent setback, but their recovery is interrupted by a bloodied stranger (Jamie Bell as Jack) who claims a virus has ravaged the area and orders them, gun in hand, to board up the place and stay inside. Is he right? Is he crazy? Well given Kate and Martin’s gloomy dispositions, should anyone care? They’re disconnected from each other, prone to on-the-nose breakdowns and pretty vocal about how neither necessarily wants to be there — and that’s before Jack even crashes their party. By the time he arrives, the black cloud is so thick that “Retreat” is playing from behind. As act two carries on further with too much gloomy telling and not very much showing, the deficit becomes insurmountable. There’s merit to the less-is-more approach, and if you squint and tune out some of the babbling, “Retreat” stealthily puts a framework in place for a creepy, tense finish. But when the baggage spills over once again in act three, it’s a cold reminder that you have no one to root for in this story. By then, there’s only so much the twists at the end can do.
Extras: Behind-the-scenes feature, photo gallery.

Worth Mentioning
— “Borgia: Faith and Fear: Season One” (NR, 2011, Lions Gate): Well this is awkward. In what amounted to television’s version of two women showing up to the same party wearing the same dress, 2011 gave us two entirely separate but equally excellent shows about the Borgia family. This, likely, is the one with which you’re less familiar. Though in English, it comes by way of France’s CANAL+ instead of Showtime. And while fans of “The Wire” will recognize John Doman in Rodrigo Borgia’s shoes, he lacks the universal cachet of Jeremy Irons, who plays his counterpart in the Showtime series. Fortunately, there’s no rule against watching two Borgia-themed shows in the same year. Additionally, while “Faith and Fear” covers the same thematic ground as “The Borgias,” it goes its own way in terms of presentation and dramatization. Specifically, if you thought “The Borgias” was a little tame in terms of sex and violence, “Fear” won’t disappoint you the same way. It’s thoughtfully constructed, but relentlessly fierce, and Mark Ryder’s snarling embodiment of Cesare Borgia gets the show off to a running start that rarely stops to catch its breath. Includes 12 episodes, plus a behind-the-scenes feature.
— “Underdog: Complete Collector’s Edition” (NR, 1964, Shout Factory): Never fear: Though labeled as complete, this nine-disc collection does not count the ill-devised 2007 live-action movie among its contents. Rather, this set is devoted entirely to the original cartoon, which spanned three seasons and 62 episodes, all of which are perfectly preserved here. In case you’re wondering: Yes, they’re the full episodes — including the bonus cartoons starring Underdog’s friends (Klondike Kat, Tooter Turtle, Go Go Gophers, Commander McBragg) as well as Underdog’s own adventures. Extras include commentary with (among others) co-creator W. Watts Biggers, a behind-the-scenes feature and a 20-page color booklet with liner notes, a brief history, concept art and more.
— “Weeds: Season Seven” (NR, 2011, Showtime/Lions Gate): Usually, when a show moves to a big city like New York, it’s a sign that it’s out of ideas. When a show about dealing drugs in the suburbs goes to New York, it would appear to be a sure thing. But “Weeds” is a different animal, because it started running out of ideas three seasons ago before reinventing itself for season five and doing it again for season six. Season seven jumps ahead three years following Nancy Botwin’s (Mary-Louise Parker) surrender to the FBI, and the big city is simply another stop for a show that’s been on the run half its life and has yet to lose its way. Includes 13 episodes, plus commentary, deleted scenes, three behind-the-scenes features and multi-scene comparisons.
— “Nurse Jackie: Season Three” (NR, 2011, Showtime/Lions Gate): If you’ve ever wanted to see a seemingly smart and capable person (Edie Falco as Nurse Jackie) architect her professional and personal demise in slow, painful and (for us) wondrously entertaining fashion, there may be no show on Earth that makes it happen better than this one. Season one ended with the walls closing in, season two somehow made it even more claustrophobic, and there would seemingly be nowhere to go for a third round of escaping lies by telling more lies. And yet, season three provides proof: No matter how bad it looks, it can always get worse (and for us, better). Includes 12 episodes, plus commentary, two behind-the-scenes features and bloopers.

Take Shelter (R, 2011, Sony Pictures Classics)
There’s a storm coming, and Curtis (Michael Shannon) is doing the only sensible thing he can do and building a storm shelter for his wife (Jessica Chastain) and daughter (Tova Stewart) in the back yard. Problem is, the signs of pending disaster so far exist only in Curtis’ dreams, where calamities from bird swarms to tornados to car crashes leave effects that, at least delusively, stay with him during his waking hours. So is he onto something? Or is Curtis, who watched his mother succumb to paranoid schizophrenia, simply following in her footsteps? “Take Shelter” gradually dangles clues that could lead to either conclusion, but caring solely about that is akin to skipping the journey and wondering what the fuss is about with the destination. “Shelter” moves at a measured pace to which even the word “slow” doesn’t necessary do justice, and while its depictions of Curtis’ dreams are visually impressive, it’s not really about the weather even when it is. Even if these events are real in Curtis’ world (which they may or may not be — no spoilers!), they’re mostly metaphorical in ours, accompanying stories about a family man’s potential breakdown amid a family and working-class community in similar straits. If that sounds insufferably pretentious, fear not. Though careful with its words, “Shelter” never safeguards them behind pretense. Even when things trickle along as methodically as they sometimes do, there’s entirely too much raw, relatable energy running through “Shelter’s” veins for boredom or standoffishness to become a concern. Shea Whigham also stars.
Extras: Shannon/director commentary, deleted scenes, Shannon/Whigham Q&A, behind-the-scenes feature.

Beavis and Butt-Head: Volume 4 (NR, 2011, MTV/Paramount)
The world sure has changed since Beavis and Butt-Head left us in 1997. But the bigger news regarding the “Beavis and Butt-Head” revival is that MTV itself has changed alongside it. Now, in addition to the occasional music video, the boys have the Internet, UFC fights and the entire gamut of MTV reality shows — from “Sixteen and Pregnant” to “Jersey Shore” — at their disposal. A cynic might cry foul and pan the show for covertly airing commercials for other shows, but considering how harshly (and hilariously) Beavis and Butt-Head skewer highlights from those shows, it really doesn’t matter. The new “B&B” takes place in our present day, which means the boys can tackle predator drones, “Twilight,” the Gulf oil spill and other weighty matters that weren’t on their radar back in the day. The only thing that hasn’t changed at all are Beavis and Butt-Head themselves, and remarkably, no evolution was necessary. Spouting off dialogue that’s simultaneously sharply funny and purposefully stupid isn’t as easy as these two make it look, and the new episodes are legitimately funny enough not to wear out their welcome after the nostalgia honeymoon is over. Against all odds, these two are timeless.
Contents: 12 episodes, plus 2011 San Diego Comic-Con panel footage, Beavis and Butt-Head Interruptions and a PSA about ringing cell phones.

Under the Boardwalk: The Monopoly Story (NR, 2010, Docurama)
You probably always just figured the arguable king of polarizing board games had a history attached to it. But did you know it included what basically amounted to a 30-year beta test while a growing crop of people passed around and iterated on homemade versions of the game like it was a family recipe? Or that citizens in communist countries went to great risk during the World War II era to make and distribute underground editions after the official game was banned? There’s more where that came from in “Under the Boardwalk,” which pulls double duty as a document of the 2009 United States and World Monopoly Championships. If you’re surprised to hear such things exist, you’ll be floored when you see one player sling mud at another over what he perceives to be shenanigans during the qualifying rounds. (Then again, if you’ve ever played a game of Monopoly to completion, that shouldn’t surprise you at all.) “Boardwalk” bounces from history lesson to sports showdown and back with a terrifically reverent energy, and its stops in between — with Monopoly fanatics and those who lovingly express what the game means to them beyond just the game — makes this as celebratory (and, when the fates of our championship competitors hang in the balance, dramatic against all odds) as it is educational.
Extras: Tips from Monopoly pros, an uncut (42 minutes!) copy of the 2009 World Championship, outtakes/extended scenes, an interactive copy of the quiz players had to take to qualify for the 2009 U.S. Championship.

Second City Presents: Buzzkill (NR, 2011, Indican Pictures)
Struggling screenwriter, struggling boyfriend and all-around struggling person Ray Wyatt (Daniel Raymont) is a toxically bitter mess from almost the moment his story begins. And yet, when “Buzzkill’s” opening scenes bring with them a dead animal in his dumpy apartment’s walls, a burst pipe in the ceiling, the full implosion of his relationship with Sara (Reiko Aylesworth) and the chance to settle for writing a script that offends his soul, there’s still somehow nowhere for Ray to go but down. Fortunately, plumbing the deaths of soulless, acrimonious darkness is what “Buzzkill” does best. It’s black even by the bleak metrics of black comedy, with a vile lead character who miraculously elicits some sympathy simply for making acquaintance with people somehow worse than him. Even for aficionados of dark comedy, calling it funny may be a stretch. But that isn’t damning criticism, because “Buzzkill” feels like it was designed more to be a raging, contemptuous misadventure that wants you to snarl with instead of laugh at it. And on that level, it completely works. As fictional anger goes, the raging unrest of one Ray Wyatt is uncaged enough to be cathartic if you can get over the urge to hate the guy. And as goes Ray’s weird energy, so goes “Buzzkill” as a whole. If you’re down for a little vicarious indignation therapy, the film’s title is a complete misnomer. Krysten Ritter and Darrell Hammond also star. No extras.

The Dead (R, 2011, Anchor Bay)
Zombie movies have gone seemingly everywhere they intend to go, and they’ve made the trip multiple times over. The sub-genre is so saturated with also-rans, in fact, that “The Dead” became a cult curiosity simply on the premise that it doesn’t do the same old thing the same old way. Instead of another loud and campy story crammed with characters whose deaths are all but guaranteed, “The Dead” centers around two survivors — an American Air Force Lieutenant (Rob Freeman) whose evac plane crashed in Africa, and an African soldier (Prince David Oseia) forced to fend for himself in a homeland crawling with zombified countrymen. And instead of a gabby, gory script that allows characters to talk each other’s ears off before zombies do the literal equivalent with their teeth, “The Dead” treads quietly, choosing its words carefully (when it uses any at all) and relegating the action to exception rather than rule status. Is it refreshing? If you love zombie movies but crave something in search of faux-authenticity, it sure is. Is it also boring? If you’re all zombied out or have no interest in movies that take the subject this seriously, it almost certainly is. “The Dead” looks good and absolutely succeeds at being what it wants to be, so it’s silly to fault its execution. But if you don’t share its tastes, it stands no chance of changing that.
Extras: Directors commentary, deleted scene, behind-the-scenes feature.

VIPs (NR, 2010, Focus World/Entertainment One)
Like so many others, Marcelo (Wagner Moura) wants to live a glamorous life and see the world. So he sets out to do so the only way he figures he can — by literally being like so many others. Let the comparisons to “Catch Me if You Can” commence: “VIPs” throws one up on the back of its own box, so it clearly doesn’t mind, and considering Marcelo’s adventure is based on a true story of its own, it doesn’t really need to mind. Beyond the superficialities, the two stories have little in common anyway. While “CMIYC” played the stylish and cute card to the point of being more comedy than drama, “VIPs” embroils itself in a world of drug trafficking, internal demons, and games played with dangerous people on two sides of the law. It’s still presented as a good time, and you might still envy Marcelo at the height of his best bluffs, but “VIPs” has a savvy knack for countering every glamorous moment with just enough edge, paranoia and sneaking suspicions of lurking danger to keep any desire to be him at bay. If the movie’s goal was to be a compelling and exciting story about a guy in over his head, mission accomplished. But even if “VIPs” never states it outright, it’s just as engaging as an argument about the liberating power of a life honestly lived. In Portuguese with English subtitles.
Extra: Cast/crew interviews.

All Things Fall Apart (R, 2011, One Village/Image Entertainment)
If there was an Oscar for most hearts slathered on one sleeve, go ahead and give it to Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson, who not only co-wrote “All Things Fall Apart” but lost more than 50 lbs. to carry it in the lead role. Jackson stars as Deon, a football star whose destiny date with the NFL is derailed by the discovery of a tumor near his heart. Sure enough, his transformation — muscular, dreadlocked and invincible one moment and hairless, rail-thin and invisible to all who previously worshipped him the next — is visually striking. But “Apart’s” keen sense to show rather than describe that transformation is all for naught when just about every other emotion and effect is verbally fed to the audience like worms from a mama bird. Earnest intentions or not, “Apart” plays like a calculated Oscar-by-numbers project, cramming in every genre cliche it can accommodate. It drops the dramatic weight on an actor ill-equipped to carry it, it chips in wince-worthy lines like “I didn’t mean to get sick” to accentuate the after-school-special motif, and two scenes meant to be respectively heartbreaking and stirring — Deon’s mother (Lynn Whitfield) letting the mental toll finally break her and Deon’s father (Mario Van Peebles) delivering a speech about how Deon needs to work like a Chinese man but get an education like a rich white man — are botched to unintentionally comic effect. It’s hard to bag too hard on “Apart,” which — calculated or not — seems like it could have its heart in the right place. But even angelic intentions need a good follow-through, and this one’s simply playing out of its league. No extras.

The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence: Unrated Director’s Cut (NR, 2011, IFC)
You’ve probably heard of “The Human Centipede.” But if you actually saw it, you know its real genius lied in how it almost completely rejected gore and guts and still managed to paint a wholly unnerving picture of what an enterprising and brilliant surgeon is capable of when he loses his mind. “The Human Centipede 2,” by contrast, exists in our world: The original “Centipede” is a fictional movie, and dangerously disgruntled parking lot attendant Martin (Laurence R. Harvey) is anything but surgical when he decides to mimic (and outdo) his favorite film by grafting people together as a living human centipede. As you might guess, Martin’s anger and lack of surgical credentials come into play. And consequently, as you might fear, “HC2″ does a complete 180 on its predecessor’s methods despite being helmed by the same writer and director. Where the original film’s surgeon was convinced he was somehow making science, Martin is just a bumbling nutjob who kills with abandon, and where the first movie blazed its own trail by forgoing blood and scaring with madness instead, “HC2″ has no problem whatsoever being as artlessly, pointlessly exploitative as its 91 minutes allow. That it’s presented like an art film — shot in the most pretentious shade of monochrome achievable on the light spectrum — is good for an ironic (and potentially unintentional) laugh. But in every other respect, the bad-as-bad-gets “HC2″ is the new poster child for what happens when a director’s talent runs out at the very same moment his budget runs wild.
Extras: Harvey/director commentary, deleted scene, director interview, three behind-the-scenes features.

Project Nim (PG-13, 2011, Lions Gate)
It shouldn’t have been like this, and you literally can say that again … and again, and maybe two or three more times after that. “Project Nim” begins gently as the story of Nim, a young chimpanzee who received a wholly human upbringing in an attempt to understand chimps’ ability to grasp language and human thought processes. Unfortunately, such grasps often eluded the humans charged with caring for him. Their adventures in pettiness, lust, bullheadedness, emotional stagnation, red tape and general ineptitude result in one mishandling after another of Nim’s upbringing. “Gorillas in the Mist” this absolutely is not, and the presentationally polished “Nim’s” willingness to let Nim’s handlers verbally hang themselves years later is as admirable as the whole odyssey is infuriating to anyone who sees animals as more than canvases for science and medicine. Fortunately, for every imbecile who gets a chapter in Nim’s story, there is someone with common sense and a will to use it for Nim’s good. The battle that ensues as Nim matures from cute baby chimp into a force of nature with a long memory is a dizzying, life-consuming and occasionally bloody look at people — and primates — at their best as well as at their worst.
Extras: Director commentary, two behind-the-scenes features.

The Sunset Limited (NR, 2011, HBO)
“The Sunset Limited’s” miserable professor (Tommy Lee Jones) certainly didn’t expect to spend his evening in the kitchen of an ex-con (Samuel L. Jackson). But who can blame him? He figured he’d be dead before the sun even set. (Un)fortunately for the professor, an attempt to jump in front of a train was thwarted by the ex-con (neither character gets a name, in case you’re wondering), so life — liberating, harrowing, meaningless, wondrous, miraculous, terrible life — goes on. “Limited” spends the entirety of its 90 minutes at the ex-con’s kitchen table, and it expends the full might of its energy on a debate about the soul that packs more earnest verbal impact into a random tangent than most politicians can wedge into a thousand empty campaign speeches. Never excessively anything — from preachy to glum to even serious, thanks to some perfectly-timed patches of genuinely funny levity — “Limited” also never sleeps on its two-man cast, nor does it take either actor’s talents for granted. The script is too fearlessly thought-provoking to grow dull, the characters far too animated to remind you they haven’t even changed rooms, and one wonders if even a second-rate cast could fail something so sharply written. After watching Jackson and Jones close the conversation with even more fire in their heart than they had when it began, though, let’s be glad we don’t have to find out.
Extras: Commentary with Jackson, Jones (who also directs) and writer Cormac McCarthy, making-of feature.

A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas: Extra Dope Edition (R/NR, 2011, New Line)
Really, did we need a third “Harold & Kumar” movie? Of course not. But we didn’t need the first and second ones either, and no one understood that as vividly as the people responsible for making them. “A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas” takes place a couple years after Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Kal Penn) have gone their separate ways — the former married and working on Wall Street, the latter more stoned and out of shape than ever, and both having found new sidekicks (Thomas Lennon and Amir Blumenfeld) to fill their respective voids. A long story follows about Harold needing to replace a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve to keep his wife’s family from killing him, but as “H&K” connoisseurs need not be told, it’s little more than an elaborate means to reunite Harold, Kumar and Neil Patrick Harris for another absurd adventure. (Nitpickers, you can relax: Even though Harris was killed in the second movie, “Christmas” has a perfectly plausible explanation for his return.) Impressively, the title is good for more than a gag: “Christmas,” displays a crudely lovable fondness for Christmas movies and the holidays in general, and the 3D is both deliberately, gratuitously stupid and kind of great (even if you lack a 3D display and have to just imagine its effect). Most crucially, it upholds the “Harold & Kumar” tradition of taking stupid, tasteless ideas and mining them for genuinely, cleverly funny gags. That’s a feat precious few comedies pull off at all, much less consistently, so maybe these movies are pretty necessary after all.
Extra: Extended version of the film.

The Other F Word (NR, 2011, Oscilloscope)
Your images of punk culture likely exclude bottle feedings, playing ball in the yard and frequent applications of hair dye to hide the grey. But even these guys get old and have families, and guess what? At least according to the testaments of those who appear in “The Other F Word” — Pennywise’s Jim Lindberg, Rancid’s Lars Frederiksen, Tony Adolescent, Art Alexakis, Tony Hawk, Flea — they love it too. That isn’t to say it’s easy, especially when their version of providing for the family means long stretches on the road and a need to play songs they barely can stand to hear in order to give fans what they want. “Word” initially plays one note by emphasizing the comedy of tattooed, explicative-laden-shirt-wearing dads channeling their inner Ward Cleavers against all superficial odds. Before long, though, it’s covering the phenomenon from all angles — not just fatherhood, but their own childhoods, the rigors of making a living in a new musical landscape, and the sometimes-Herculean efforts needed to summon the desire to go on stage and channel an energy that no longer comes naturally. In terms of brutal, frank honesty, this one has it in spades. But don’t confuse hardship and heartache for self-pity or anything remotely in that ballpark. To the contrary, “Word” is a portrait of love labored — for son, daughter and wife as well as for fellow performers and the scene at large — and, even at its most mournful, a loving testament to the unspeakable power only a newborn baby wields.
Extras: Director/producer/Alexakis/Lindberg commentary, SXSW Festival post-screening Q&A, outtakes, two music videos, two acoustic performances.

The Rebound (R, 2011, Fox)
If you have a cynical disposition, even “The Rebound’s” title — what is it about romantic comedies with two-word titles beginning with “The?” — portends mediocrity. The premise — a newly-divorced, recently-cheated-on mother of two (Catherine Zeta-Jones) and a much younger, freshly-single, recently-used coffee shop employee (Justin Bartha) are each on the rebound and very predictably on a collision course with each other — doesn’t inspire any additional confidence. But then something shocking happens. Actually, just kidding, no it doesn’t. “The Rebound” is nowhere near a bad movie: To the contrary, it’s pretty consistently pleasant even when its jokes mostly fall flat and the story bounces from one well-worn romantic comedy cliche to another. But as should be pretty clear by now, it has little interest in being anything a ton of other also-rans haven’t already been. That’s unfortunate in any context, but when “The Rebound” shows just a glimmer of ingenuity in its final five or so minutes, it’s especially baffling. Without spoiling anything, there are more milestones passing through those final minutes than in the 90 that preceded it. But with time running out, a perplexing music montage and spoken-but-not-really-shown recap are all “The Rebound” has to show for them.
Extra: Cast/crew interviews.

Fireflies in the Garden (R, 2011, Sony Pictures)
There’s a snake in the grass in “Fireflies in the Garden.” Unfortunately — for the snake and, consequently, “Garden” and all who see it — it’s about as camouflaged as an anaconda on a fairway. In its opening scene, “Garden” introduces us to Charles (Willem Dafoe), whose irrational, out-of-context berating of his son Michael (Cayden Boyd) presumably intends to set the tone for a complicated and troubled father-son relationship. But all it does — with considerable help from the scenes that follow — is establish Charles as an insufferable monster whose bad behavior punishes his wife (Julia Roberts) and surrounding family as well. Years later, an older Michael (Ryan Reynolds) returns home for a celebration that turn tragic (of course), and “Garden” embarks on a second generation of family angst while occasionally jumping back in time to pile onto Michael’s tormented upbringing. If you’re wondering what the point of any of this is, rest assured you aren’t alone. “Garden’s” intentions — yet another story about a superficially perfect family that’s as dysfunctional as any other — is tiresome enough. But its failure to do even that in the face of its hideously unlikable patriarch is a miserable exercise in futility, and when it practically breaks its neck in an attempt to provide Charles some wholly unearned redemption, the family’s acquiescence feels like a betrayal of what little sympathy you might have invested in them. That’s obviously a spoiler, but when a movie this unpleasant achieves an ending that still feels like a letdown, a spoiler becomes a time-saving favor.
Extra: Behind-the-scenes feature.

The Big Year (PG, 2011, Fox)
As one passerby in “The Big Year” remarks, only Americans could turn birding — the inside-baseball term for bird-watching — into a competition. But every January, a cadre of birders trek around North America in a madcap, yearlong quest to photograph as many species of birds as nature, outside obligations and sheer determination allow. It’s called The Big Year, its only prize is pride, and this particular year, it will intertwine the lives of two rookies — bumbling programmer Brad (Jack Black) and self-made business maven Stu (Steve Martin) — and a veteran (Owen Wilson as Kenny) who fears his world record could be endangered. “Year” comes based on a novel that itself is an infectiously enjoyable open love letter to compulsive birding. Impressively, the movie is as well — so much so that it arguably defies precise classification. “Year” is neither darkly nor fall-down funny, nor is it even built around gags or slapstick. The object of the movie may not even be to make people laugh. But before you dismiss that notion as a gross misuse of the word “comedy,” it’s important to draw a distinction between a movie designed to make you laugh and one capable of commanding and holding a smile nearly without pause for 100 minutes. In lieu of repackaged laughs that could fit into umpteen other comedies, “Year” offers a uplifting, deeply likable and contagiously fun look at a pursuit you may not even know exists. Be glad the birding class of 2012 has built an insurmountable lead by the time you see this. Had it not, and if “Year’s” portrayal is at all faithful, you might be tempted to escape the daily doldrums and ride with them.
Extra: Extended and theatrical versions.

Drive (R, 2011, Sony Pictures)
Say this for “Drive:” In the long, winding vein of movies about drivers for hire (Ryan Gosling) trying to save an innocent heroine (Carey Mulligan as Irene) caught inside a bad mob deal over which she had no control and barely any ties, it inarguably marches to its own beat — debatably, to a fault. To delve further into “Drive’s” story wouldn’t be to spoil it — because what you read above is, details aside, all there fundamentally is to it. Stuff happens — quite violently, in fact — and between the bloodshed, “Drive” looks awfully pretty and speaks with great care while that stuff happens. But at no point does Gosling’s unnamed character come into meaningful focus. It doesn’t make much sense why he goes to such grisly lengths to protect Irene, and when “Driver” wraps its business, it’s hard to discern what all the thousand-yard stares and contemplative moments (to say nothing of the mournful Brian Eno song that plays three separate times) were trying to say. Maybe they aren’t saying anything, and maybe “Drive” is just that rare action movie that hangs out at the intersection between pretentious art film and narratively empty violence run wild. It’s ability to hang at that intersection makes it novel, and that novelty makes it a more interesting movie than the same story would have been under conventional circumstances. But that doesn’t mean you won’t hate it as much as others loved it, and it certainly doesn’t mean this rare combination need ever become the norm. Bryan Cranston, Albert Brooks, Ron Perlman, Oscar Isaac and Christina Hendricks also star.
Extras: Director interview, four behind-the-scenes features.

Thunder Soul (PG, 2011, Lions Gate)
It’s a plot straight out of a feel-good summer movie: A music teacher assembles a band of unseasoned, occasionally undisciplined high school musicians and turns them into a force of funk nature that transcends high school competitions and sends tremors though the musical landscape at large. But thanks to the efforts of Conrad “Prof” Johnson, there’s nothing fictitious about the Kashmere Stage Band, which changed the face of stage music and put a charge in music that resonates to this day. “Thunder Soul” brings the band back together to play one more time for Prof on his birthday, and if you’re wondering why, how does “just because” sound? Part history lesson, part retrospective, part can-they-still-play mystery (some haven’t touched an instrument in 30 years, after all) and all kinds of heartfelt, “Soul” ultimately is a wondrous celebration of how the work of one person can set in motion a ripple that shapes impressionable lives and creates bonds durable enough to pick up right where they left off decades earlier. That this incredible teaching moment also changed the face of music? That’s simply a bonus — a thrilling one, as “Soul’s” relentlessly infectious soundtrack makes crystal clear, but a bonus just the same.
Extras: Filmmakers commentary, new footage from the 1974 documentary “Prof & The Band.”

Limelight (NR, 2011, Magnolia)
You know how sometimes, when something goes completely sideways, no one wants to talk about it? “Limelight” does not have this problem. At all. “Limelight” begins in earnest as a portrait of Peter Gatien’s relentless ascent to the top of New York’s nightclub scene, where he managed four clubs and 15,000 nightly customers at his peak in the 1990s. But then Rudy Giuliani happened, and when a crackdown on ecstasy allegedly turned back the curtain on a system of organized, club-sponsored drug trafficking that made “The Wire’s” corners look like Sesame Street, all hell broke loose. Had “Limelight” been saddled with telling the story all by itself, it might be a pedestrian case of just another downfall of a club kingpin who felt a little too invincible for his own good. Fortunately, the movie has help, and from everywhere. Gatien speaks, former patrons speak, former partners and employers speak, and his adversaries — in business and government — speak as well. The flurry of dirt and accusations is documentary crossfire at its finest, and when you combine that bitterness with a wistfulness of an era gone by — the credits reveal what The Limelight nightclub has turned into today, and it’s alternately gutting and hilarious — it’s a mess of personal feelings unleashed for the camera. Who’s lying? Who isn’t? Who knows. “Limelight’s” closing moments include a considerable roundup of people who declined to talk, and the message here is too muddled to pass for damning insight. As entertainment, though, it passes with flying colors.
Extra: Deleted scenes.

In Time (PG-13, 2011, Fox)
Time literally is money in “In Time.” Turn 25, and you have a year to live, but because time is now a currency, you can add to that balance or spend it foolishly. If you can do it with money in our world, you can do it with time in theirs — especially if, like Will (Justin Timberlake), you receive a century’s worth simply for helping a stranger whose fatigue with being nearly immortal (and living a sheltered, risk-free life to stay that way) compels him to give his time away. The stranger wants Will to use his time well, and with that table-setter, “Time” has a staggering cluster of allegorical roads down which to take this idea. Unfortunately, it chooses the one — a scramble amongst criminals, authorities and the rich to take from Will what he was given — most probably expect it to take. “Time” runs pretty wild with the implications of its concept and its upheaval of the notions of wealth, aging and what it means to truly live. But while it’s loaded with clever little ideas, it spends too much time on a flat big idea that devolves into just another good guy/bad guy chase across town. Replace time with money, and the general storyline could be any old movie about the corrupt and powerful chasing a guy who found a fortune they feel is theirs. You can’t say that about the smaller details, which makes “Time” fun to watch anyway. Given the number of horizons that lay at it feet, though, it’s disappointing you can say it at all.
Extra: Deleted/extended scenes.

The Double (PG-13, 2011, Image Entertainment)
A U.S. senator is murdered almost in cold blood, and all signs point to it being the work of a familiar killer. Problem is, the assassin — a Soviet code-named Cassius — is supposed to be dead. The retired federal agent who declared him dead (Richard Gere) is pulled back in and teamed with a rising star (Topher Grace) whose thesis about Cassius got him in the door. There’s more to the story than that, but delving any further would constitute a spoiler, and this is not a movie that can really afford to take that kind of hit. “The Double” has two excellent surprises in store, and it surrounds those surprises with fallout and buildup that’s pretty good but only pretty good. Specifically, it lets surprise No. 1 out a little too early and builds on it in a way that’s conventional and almost functions as stalling toward the inevitable result of that surprise. Surprise No. 2 provides a nice twist on that inevitability, but by the time it arrives, we’re halfway past the climax and out of good uses for it. Ultimately, though it looks good and plays all the right thriller notes, “The Double” probably feels like a movie you’ve seen before — even if the concept brought forth by those surprises is new to you.
Extras: Filmmakers commentary, interviews.

Dream House (PG-13, 2011, Universal)
Will (Daniel Craig) has a loving wife (Rachel Weisz), two loving children, and what should be a lovely future in a beautiful new house. But what’s up with the creepy teenagers Will caught throwing a morbid party in his basement one night? And what’s all this talk about a murder taking place in this house five years prior? Will sets out to investigate, and when “Dream House” reaches its halfway point, it gives him a surprising answer that considerably alters the meaning of everything that transpired during those first 45 minutes. That’s great, because “House” starts slow and kind of lumbers forward until it reaches that fork. Problem is, it ends slowly as well. While “House” rebuilds its deck in a memorable way, the excitement needle gradually reverts back to its original position while Will makes sense of these revelations. The back half, like the front half, lumbers along conventional lines for the most part, but this time, there’s no shocker waiting to rewrite all that preceded it. A few glances into Will’s well-being aside, it’s a thriller-by-numbers with a good idea but limited ability to take it places. Naomi Watts also stars.
Extra: Four behind-the-scenes features.

Worth Mentioning
— “To Kill a Mockingbird: 50th Anniversary Collection” (NR, 1962, Universal): The year’s first significant anniversary celebration goes to “To Kill a Mockingbird,” which doubles up on celebrations as part of Universal’s 100th Anniversary Collector’s Series. In addition to digitally-restored DVD, Blu-ray and digital copy editions of the film, this set — packaged inside a 44-page booklet containing storyboards, production notes, photos, posters and more — includes commentary with the film’s director and producer, a feature-length conversation with star Gregory Peck, the feature-length making-of documentary “Fearful Symmetry,” a retrospective with star Mary Badham, footage of Peck’s Best Actor and AFI Lifetime Achievement Award acceptance speeches and more.
— “The Comic Strip Presents…: The Complete Collection” (NR, 1982, Entertainment One): Chances are, unless you really know your sketch comedy history, Britain’s “The Comic Strip Presents…” has eluded you. At long last, it’s no longer a hassle or legally dubious to see what shook up British TV in the early 1980s — and launched the careers of Adrian Edmondson, Jennifer Saunders and Robbie “Rubeus Hagrid” Coltrane. The nine-disc set includes all 39 episodes, plus live performance footage, a retrospective and the two-part “First Laugh on Four” documentary.

50/50 (R, 2011, Summit)
If what happens to 27-year-old Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) ever happens to you, drop to your knees and pray you have a friend as good as Kyle (Seth Rogen). Some back pain and a doctor’s appointment turns into a cancer diagnosis for Adam, whose rudimentary Internet research gives him a 50/50 chance at beating it. From here, “50/50″ has three conventional choices — be a dreary slow burn, go for dark comedy in the face of death, or strive for uncomfortable authenticity and see where it takes you. But why choose if you can do all three? When “50/50″ wants to be funny, it is — often hilariously, frequently childishly or crudely. And when the mood subsides and the dark side of Adam’s diagnosis encroaches, the movie responds with furious, howling anger as much as it does resigned sadness. Ultimately, while running the gamut before backing over it and running it again, “50/50″ strikes hardest at the notion of support and undying loyalty — from strangers and unlikely places as well as family, but especially from an overgrown manchild who hooks himself to Adam’s side when he easily could have drifted away. Gordon-Levitt’s fiery performance gives “50/50″ all the energy it needs to burn through its 100 minutes way too quickly, but it’s the presence of Kyle — loud, lovable but obscenely heartfelt and ready to bare teeth like a bulldog at anyone who lets his best friend down — that makes this one of 2011′s most inspired movies. Anna Kendrick, Bryce Dallas Howard and Anjelica Huston also star.
Extras: Writer/director/Rogen commentary, deleted scenes, three behind-the-scenes features (including a four-parter that compares scenes from the movie to the true story that inspired it).

Hell and Back Again (NR, 2011, Docurama)
When Sergeant Nathan Harris’ Marine unit launched an assault from behind the lines of a Taliban stronghold in 2009, the ensuing fight left Harris with a debilitating injury that knocked him out of the war. “Hell and Back Again” rolls camera on both sides of the world — with Harris’ unit in Afghanistan as it withstands a Taliban ambush and presses forward in hopes of bringing peace to a village of people who do not trust them, and with Harris himself as he struggles mightily to walk, heal and otherwise live a normal life in North Carolina. Yes, you’ve probably heard this narrative before and (cold as it is to say) can probably guess the general particulars of what happens next. But if you’ve taken the time to pay attention to these stories before, you likely know — as “Again” confirms — that generalizations have nothing on details. “Again” eschews narration and, outside of some place-setting text, doesn’t frame its footage in any way the footage itself doesn’t. Even if you think you’ve seen it all already, the scenes where soldiers and villagers try to figure each other out are completely fascinating, and all the discourse about homecoming soldiers feeling like aliens in their own country has nothing on watching the mundane processes of that private hell play out. In between, a memorial for those lost provides “Again’s” centerpiece, and if ever a single scene from any of these documentaries can stick more than all the others, the speech Marine Chaplain Terry Roberts delivers to his fellow soldiers may be it.
Extras: Director/editor commentary, deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes feature, slide show.

Real Steel (PG-13, 2011, Disney)
With all due respect to Hugh Jackman’s presence, “Real Steel’s” commercials made it look like an absolutely ridiculous techno jock rock B-movie about Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots come nightmarishly alive. But it’s funny what a little good writing can accomplish, isn’t it? In line with those ads, “Steel” most definitely is nuts — packed tight with people who behave like cartoon characters while crowding arenas to cheer on household-name boxing robots who fight in a league with an alarming level of ambivalence about level playing fields. But “Steel” also is about a former human boxer and general deadbeat (Jackman as Charlie) connecting with his estranged 11-year-old son (Dakota Goyo as Max) over a shared passion for these boxing robots. And if you’re expecting it to do the bare, nauseating minimum with that drippy-on-paper subplot, what actually happens instead may just floor you. While by no means poetry, “Steel’s” maturation of this storyline — and most importantly, the subplot’s integration into the craziness surrounding it — is miles better than was probably expected of it. Charlie, in spite of and sometimes in direct response to being a deadbeat, makes a terrific story anchor. Max, meanwhile, avoids the annoying kid-with-baggage archetypes every bit as deftly as his dad sidesteps the regretful-parent-who-finally-gets-it routine. And even if you don’t care, the advent of Atom, the scrappy little robot that could, is completely enthralling. Logic holes abound, and at no point is it anything short of spectacularly apparent how silly the whole thing is, but good luck not rooting Atom on when “Steel” puts its “Rocky” shoes on and dances up a storm in them.
Extras: Director commentary, two behind-the-scenes features, bloopers.

The Confession (NR, 2011, Flatiron Film Company)
A hit man (Kiefer Sutherland) has entered a priest’s (John Hurt) confessional on Christmas Eve, and he isn’t one for small talk: He killed a man, this is his confession, and if the priest doesn’t listen, he will kill again that night. How’s that for a holiday conversation starter? It gets better — considerably so, in fact. “The Confession” originally aired as a 10-part web series on Hulu, and this release sews the pieces together to form a seamless film. At 62 minutes, the entirety of the series is short even by feature film metrics. But good luck finding a movie that takes advantage of its time as magnificently as this one does. A few flashbacks aside, the vast majority of “The Confession” takes place between two people inside one confessional, and the degree to which their separate and shared stories develop and swerve is just awesome. Specifics of any kind beyond the aforementioned details would spoil too much, but that’s merely a testament to how far the story goes in such a short amount of time.
Extras: Four (very short) backstory episodes about supporting characters, 14 behind-the-scenes features.

Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure (NR, 2011, Tribeca Film)
In 1987, friends Eddie Lee Sausage and Mitch Deprey moved into an embarrassingly shoddy San Francisco apartment building, and very shortly after that, they got to know their neighbors — Peter and Raymond — by way of a nasty shouting match that transmitted quite clearly through their thin walls. A few arguments and a frightening confrontation later, the guys decided to record the shouting matches, and once they realized how hilariously sardonic they were, they shared them with friends as parts of mix tapes. Those friends did the same, and long before the Internet made “going viral” an obnoxious thing obnoxious marketers say, Pete and Raymond were going viral all over San Francisco. Had “Shut Up Little Man!” been nothing more than the sum of its bookends — Eddie and Mitch’s early fascination with their terrifying neighbors on one side, the complicated relationship between Pete and Raymond on the other — it very likely would have been a funny, crazy and fascinating documentary. But when you take the middle and cram it with an absolutely bananas story about people clamoring to share, dramatize and eventually blur ethical lines and stab each other in the back to (of course) monetize it, it’s suddenly enough to wish “Man” were twice as long as its 90 minutes. There’s simply too much gold to be uncovered in this saga — though that may be as much a testament to “Man’s” versatile delivery as the story itself.
Extras: Extended interview, uncut reenactments, two behind-the-scenes features.

Memphis (NR, 2011, Shout Factory)
Something invariably is lost when you have to watch a Broadway musical play out on a screen instead of right in front of you. On the other hand? It sure is cheaper, and if done right, it need not be a total compromise. Based loosely on the life of Dewey Phillips, “Memphis” tells the story of Huey Calhoun (Chad Kimball), a goofy, illiterate and white radio DJ who strives to bring the music of Beale Street to Memphis’ white population at a time when severe racial divides made the notion of sharing music — never mind friendship or romance — completely taboo. And that’s what it is — a story about Huey, the black singer (Montego Glover as Felicia Farrell) who ensnares his heart, and the families and employers who nervously gnash their teeth while Huey’s heart fearlessly barrels forward. What “Memphis” is not is a cutting dissection of the era and the complicated effects of Huey’s taboo violation. That isn’t a criticism, mind you — just a clarification that while “Memphis” hones in on some uncomfortable subject matter, it doesn’t so much wrestle it to the ground as dance around it. Fortunately, it’s really good at dancing. What “Memphis” lacks in storytelling grit, it redeems with a roundly likable cast and a relentless wall of musical numbers that does the era’s sound and energy very proud. The DVD provides a nice visual capture of the Broadway show, but more importantly, it sounds great. Run it through a good sound system, and it’s easy to live with not actually being in the crowd.
Extras: Behind-the-scenes feature, video greetings from the cast, DVD-ROM content.

Happy Happy (R, 2010, Magnolia)
It’s funny what a mess four fully-grown adults can make, isn’t it? In one house, we have the chipper Kaja (Agnes Kittelsen), whose husband Eirik (Joachim Rafaelsen) routinely feeds her subtle hints regarding how uninteresting and unattractive she is. Moving into the guest house next door are Sigve (Henrik Rafaelsen) and Elisabeth (Maibritt Saerens), the latter (for reasons not totally clear) having agreed to move to the country as penance for cheating on Sigve. When one messy couple joins forces with the other and both find the grass greener on the other side, things will naturally just work out all around, right? Right. Of course. Contrary to the puzzling implications on the box, “Happy, Happy” pretty decisively is not the fall-down-funny comedy it implies it is. Fortunately, it just as decisively isn’t a downer either — just a kind-hearted, mean-spirited, hopeful, rueful, sweet, disturbed, confused and bullheaded story about four people who probably will remind you of a few people you know. (To its credit, when it goes for comedy, it usually hits the mark pretty pointedly. It doesn’t happen frequently, but it happens often enough.) In Norwegian with English subtitles. No extras.

Paranormal Activity 3: Unrated Director’s Cut (NR, 2011, Paramount)
“Paranormal Activity” — which told a ghost story exclusively though cameras set up by the film’s own characters — was more novel curiosity than genuinely scary horror movie, but it at least had a creep factor that was legitimate. Its sequel, unfortunately, shamelessly rode its coattails en route to building a jump scare-laden imitation product around the exact same gimmick. For the third act, “Paranormal Activity 3″ goes back to before the beginning, giving us a prequel in which we see the sisters from the first two movies as children (Chloe Csengery and Jessica Tyler Brown). Guess what? Everything that happens later in their lives happened already — down, unfortunately, to the letter. Pretense about origins and mythology aside, “PA3″ is more of the same — more surveillance cameras cycling ad nauseam, more doors slamming themselves, more cases of the characters fake-scaring each other for fun before getting spooked for real by invisible forces later. The story arcs the same way, and it’s once again ruled by the kind of cheap scares the original movie pointedly avoided. It isn’t fresh anymore, it isn’t scary, and when you take novelty and tension away from what otherwise is a collection of some other family’s home movies, it most definitely isn’t entertaining.
Extras: Theatrical and extended versions of the film, lost tapes.

The Ides of March (R, 2011, Sony Pictures)
The 2012 election circus-o-rama has begun whether you like it or not, and if you run with the crowd that (a) likes it despite also (b) assuming the very worst of the candidates and staffers who scheme, snipe and overpromise their way into your voting heart, this movie is for you. No, really — here. Take it and keep it. “The Ides of March” drops in on the campaign of Mike Morris (George Clooney), who is attempting to trade his residency at the Pennsylvania governor’s mansion for one in the White House. By his side: Idealistic junior campaign manager Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), grizzled senior campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and a staff that includes an intern (Evan Rachel Wood) who catches Stephen’s eye. What happens next, in the thick of the Ohio Democratic Primary, is at once intriguing, presentationally polished and absolutely, depressingly predictable. “March” is a thriller about the rotten things people do in the name of getting elected to idealized public service jobs they have no business accepting, and because this is Hollywood, it’s even slimier than the slime we read about in real life. But for what? “March” looks good, but it’s a good-looking march down a deathly tired road, and the little bit of ironic preaching it shoves in at the end serves no purpose other than to cement just how hopeless and foolish it is to believe in the people we elect and the system that gets them elected. We already knew that, and we’ve been down this road before, so what — especially in the name of entertainment — are we doing here again? Paul Giamatti also stars.
Extras: Writer/producer/Clooney commentary, four behind-the-scenes features.

Thurgood (NR, 2011, HBO)
Thurgood Marshall crashed through racial barriers like a Civil Rights battering ram, leaving an incredible trail of accomplishments that culminated in his becoming the United States Supreme Court’s first black justice. So if someone told you a fearless one-man play based on his life and the struggles he endured was riotously funny, would you believe them? If not, absolutely do not hesitate to see for yourself. “Thurgood” puts Laurence Fishburne on stage all by himself and fully in character as Marshall, and while Fishburne’s document of Marshall’s life includes the good times, it has no qualms whatsoever about taking on the bad and absolutely bear-hugging it. If the N-word makes you uncomfortable in any context, the bellow in which Fishburne sometimes delivers it to a live audience might startle you. And if that startles you, it just might blow your mind when the bellowing of that word is part of the punchline of a story that makes the audience roll in the aisle. There’s nothing jokey about Marshall’s accomplishments, but that need not mean the man who achieved them can’t flash a lively sense of humor when recalling them. “Thurgood” is frequently poignant and always thoughtful, but its relentless tendency to be sharply, brilliantly funny is almost unreal given the subject nature. Fishburne’s delivery — inside and outside the script, as a hilarious impromptu bit with late-arriving audience members demonstrates — is spectacularly alive, and it paints a picture of a man who loved life too much not to fight to make it better for himself and countless others. Why can’t all history lessons be this gratifying? No extras.
— More Fishburne: In tandem with “Thurgood’s” release, HBO is releasing a new Blu-ray edition of 1995′s “The Tuskegee Airmen,” in which Fishburne (along with Andre Braugher, Cuba Gooding Jr., Mekhi Phifer and John Lithgow, among others) starred. The new release includes a 32-page color book with behind-the-scenes photos, liner notes and photos of the real Tuskegee Airmen.

Delocated! Seasons 1&2 (NR, 2009, Adult Swim)
Meet Jon (Jon Glaser), whose real name isn’t Jon. He, his wife (Nadia Dajani) and son (Jacob Kogan) have been pulled out of their old lives and dropped into New York City as part of the Witness Protection Program, and as an extra precaution, they’re instructed to wear ski masks and have their voices permanently altered via surgery. As a complete antithesis to that caution, they’re also the stars of the hottest new reality show on television, making them stand out more than ever. And in a move that’s just rotten, the man trying to kill them (Eugene Mirman) is also part of the show — and proves so popular with viewers that there’s talk of a spin-off. All this and a separation, too — and that’s just “Delocated’s” pilot episode. Reality shows have become so passé that even making fun of them is slightly passé, so it’s worth pointing out that while “Delocated’s” completely farcical premise does a wonderful job of putting reality television in its miserable place, it’s equally capable at making fun of pretty every other genre on which it sets its sights. Arguably, once you get to know Mike (Kevin Dorff), the sweetly oversensitive federal agent assigned to protect Jon, “Delocated” ventures down a wavelength that has it zinging sitcoms, dramas, Lifetime movies and reality television in one hilarious simultaneous burst. The premise probably should get old after a few episodes, but once “Delocated” settles in and runs wild with every ridiculous storyline it can dream up, it’s too relentlessly funny to even break a sweat.
Contents: 19 episodes, plus commentary, deleted scenes, flip books and demo footage.

Dirty Girl (R, 2010, Anchor Bay)
Sometimes it’s better to be lovable than perfect. Titled and packaged like a cheap scandalous black comedy, “Dirty Girl” initially earns its name as a story about Danielle (Juno Temple), a loud and proud class tramp who is disgusted to have to “marry” the chunky, unpopular and gay Clarke (Jeremy Dozier) for a 30-day sex ed assignment. As we get to know Danielle, “Girl” shows its stripes as a nostalgia-soaked period piece set in 1987, and as Danielle and Clarke get acclimated, it turns into an over-caffeinated live-action cartoon that no longer seems concerned with looking scandalous. Two unspoiled plot developments turn it into a road trip comedy, and the road trip sends “Girl” careening hard into after school special territory. The schizophrenia is impossible not to notice. Pleasantly, though, it’s surprisingly easy to forgive. That Danielle and Clarke learn to get along is predictable, but the degree to and manner by which they forge their strange bond is endearing in a contagiously feel-good way. Their friendship elevates them from archetypes to completely appealing characters, and that makes “Girl” easy to love even when it delivers one case of emotional whiplash after another. Have you ever been moved by a sack of flour with a smiley face on it? Once you get to know Joan — Clarke and Danielle’s “baby” during their assignment — your answer may change. Milla Jovovich, William H. Macy and Dwight Yoakam also star.
Extras: Writer/director commentary, deleted/extended scenes.

Cold Sweat (NR, 2010, Dark Sky Films)
Ali (Marina Glezer) has a thing for Roman (Facundo Espinosa), so you can’t totally blame her for riding along while he investigates why his now-ex-girlfriend decided to suddenly cut off contact and run away with someone she met online. But volunteering to venture, alone, into the dilapidated house where she supposedly is shacking up? Not her brightest idea — especially when she discovers it’s a trap devised by two elderly former political radicals (Omar Musa and Omar Gioiosa) who have a cache of explosive chemicals and some dementedly vile ideas on how to experiment with them. Why, you ask? As always, who knows: “Cold Sweat” ties our madmen’s motives into snippets of 1970s Argentinian political history, but it isn’t abundantly clear why or how the procurement of dynamite brought them to this unhinged state 35 years later. Cloudy intentions seems to be something we just accept in horror movies. Fortunately, if it’s something you can accept, the payoff is pretty great. “Sweat” passes on needless gore in favor of a leaner, more acutely intense story that focuses squarely on these five characters the whole time. Murky motives aside, the two seniors make a wonderfully crazy duo — bickering old stooges one moment, terrifying evil geniuses the next. The victims, meanwhile, are likable enough to make their peril worth your concern, and without the usual cadre of disposable supporting characters to kill off, their survival takes hold early and keeps that grip throughout. The classically pure tension scares in ways needless bloodshed never can. (With that said, the one time “Sweat” truly indulges its gratuitous side, the payoff is pretty awesome — and arguably slightly poetic.) In Spanish with English subtitles.
Extras: Deleted/extended scenes, two behind-the-scenes features, digital comic book, collection of promotional spots and galleries.

Bombay Beach (NR, 2011, Entertainment One)
Once upon a time — specifically, 1950s California — the Salton Sea’s Bombay Beach was a bustling embodiment of the American dream’s limitless power. Now? It’s just another place time forgot — a poor, run-down community where few live and even fewer visit. So what happened? “Bombay Beach,” unfortunately, doesn’t really say, so you’ll have to look that up elsewhere if the premise has you curious. Instead, “Bay” is a wandering look at those who live there now. At that, it’s engaging and inviting — a reminder both of how much we all have in common and how different day-to-day life can look in one part of the country versus another. If you want more than that, though, “Bay” isn’t selling. Dependent entirely on the narrative these residents offer it, the movie itself isn’t interested in grand dissections of the 60 years that upended Bombay Beach’s fortunes. Frankly, outside of one of the DVD special features, it has no inclination to explore anything that happened before or after the camera began rolling. Everything that concerns “Bay” happens during its lifespan, making for an engaging look at life in the moment that will delight some while leaving others completely unfulfilled.
Extras: Selected-scene commentary, updates on the people we meet in the movie, deleted scenes, music videos.

Boardwalk Empire: The Complete First Season (NR, 2010, HBO)
It’s all too easy to just figure “Boardwalk Empire” must be great, because all HBO ever does with television shows set around specific times and places is make them great. But to simply shrug at “Empire’s” greatness is to dismiss its ability to exhilarate in spite of the oppressively predictable overtones that accompany its premise. Anyone with any historical comprehension already knows how well the United States’ flirtation with Prohibition went, and anyone with any clue whatsoever could scarcely even feign surprise when the legislators responsible for pressing the big red Prohibition button are the same folks cutting secret deals to keep the booze flowing for themselves and their friends in business, leadership and organized crime. These and some of “Empire’s” other themes — women’s suffrage, post-war trauma, every -ism in the discrimination playbook — are so rigidly set in their thematic ways as to materialize without help, and the show’s attention to historical accuracy would appear only to stifle it further. But in mixing the dramatizations of real people with characters of the show’s own creation, “Empire” perfectly threads the needle, tipping its hat to history with a gorgeous recreation of the era but overwhelmingly keeping its focus on the detailed development of a massive roster of terrific characters from the largest and most acute corners of the era. With an eye for detail this good, “Empire” is free to let the themes play out like you know they will, because the real story lies between the lines. With an ensemble cast (Steve Buscemi, Kelly Macdonald, Michael Pitt, Michael Shannon, Michael Kenneth Williams and so many more) like this, it’s also in supremely good hands.
Contents: 12 episodes, plus commentary, two behind-the-scenes features, one feature each on Atlantic City and Prohibition speakeasies, and a (very helpful) character dossier.

Moneyball (PG-13, 2011, Sony Pictures)
As often happens as result of baseball’s wealth imbalance, the Oakland Athletics — fresh off a 2001 playoff run, but anchored by a shoestring budget that forces them to part ways with several marquee players in their prime — are in danger of crashing to Earth. But General Manager Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) has different ideas, and when an ordinary meeting introduces him to a low-level Cleveland Indians employee (Jonah Hill as Peter Brand) with even wilder ideas about how to win baseball games, he hires him away. Together, the two form a team around a system of formulas they call Moneyball, and with a ragtag band of players no one else wanted, they defy the odds and win the 2002 World Series. Actually, they don’t — and that’s no spoiler if you follow baseball religiously enough to enjoy “Moneyball” as it’s intended to be enjoyed. Though “Moneyball” takes some odd creative liberties (Peter Brand is a fictional composite based on Paul DePodesta and other Beane employees), its narrative keystones — the deals Beane struck, the near-career suicide he committed while striking them, and the on-field result of those risk — are the real thing. And that’s good, because if a screenwriter plotted the 2002 A’s the way Beane did, no long-suffering baseball fan would buy it. Beane’s ability to disrupt baseball economics is debatable, because once he threw a lifeline to small-market teams, big-market teams adopted it and promptly swallowed the advantage in one bite. But the system’s ability to rewrite the way fans and executives view a game more than a century old is no small feat, and “Moneyball” — with scenes in back rooms that are as exciting as those on the field — makes its advent an absolute thrill to witness. Philip Seymour Hoffman also stars.
Extras: Deleted scenes, Beane feature, three-behind-the-scenes features, blooper.

An Idiot Abroad (NR, 2011, BBC)
Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant have, through their numerous collaborations and creative endeavors, visited some extraordinary corners of the world. Karl Pilkington, on the other hand, has not, nor does he particularly wish to do so. Fortunately, Gervais and Merchant are as resourceful and persuasive as they are funny. And in an endeavor Gervais describes as the “funniest, most expensive practical joke” he’s ever pulled, they’re sending their good friend away to see the wonders of the world under the guise of enlightenment and educational television. In truth, it’s an elaborate form of torment from thousands of miles away: Pilkington gets to see the wonders — not that he cares for them most of the time — but he has to deal with any number of carefully-arranged travel nightmares and cultural shocks en route to doing so. The degree to which Gervais and Merchant amuse themselves is contagiously hilarious, as are the various shades of abject horror that pale Pilkington’s face when he’s faced with a situation from which there is no comfortable escape. With that said, “An Idiot Abroad’s” title is something of a misnomer. Pilkington doubtlessly isn’t the most refined world traveler around, but his constant verbal monologues — sometimes little throwaway lines, other times meandering impromptu speeches — are way too funny and sharply honest to dismiss simply as the musings of an idiot. Occasionally they’re even a little bit profound — if only for a fleeting second or two before his senses return to him.
Contents: Eight episodes, plus the original preview show, deleted scenes and a photo gallery.

What’s Your Number? (R, 2011, Fox)
Ally (Anna Faris) has slept with 19, or perhaps 20, guys, and the gravity of that number never bothered her until a friend mentioned a study that declares women unmarriable if they exceed that completely arbitrary number. In an effort to avoid bumping that number to 21, Ally hatches a plan to reunite with (and ideally marry) an ex-boyfriend, and she enlists the people-finding skills of neighbor Colin (Chris Evans) in exchange for letting him hide in her apartment until his one-night stands go home. A cute, if contrived, idea for a harmless romantic comedy? Sure. But if you don’t know exactly how “What’s Your Number?” will end the minute Colin makes the first impression he makes, you’ve probably never seen a movie before. “Number” has plenty going for it, and not simply because Faris straps a mediocre script to her unbelievably charismatic back and makes it several orders of magnitude more entertaining than it otherwise had any right to be. Some of Faris’ castmates are likable in their own way, some scenes are genuinely funny, and “Number” at its very worst still has a enjoyably sweet disposition. It’s merely a shame all that’s good about it couldn’t apply to a story that isn’t laughably predictable at every turn. Faris fans will enjoy it simply for her presence alone, but the boldest thing “Number” does is further validate all who believe she deserves better roles than she gets.
Extras: Extended cut, deleted scenes.

Answer This! (PG-13, 2012, Lions Gate)
It’s hard not to wonder what happened to “Answer This!,” which must have had different plans than being shelved, shuttled straight to video and branded by some marketer with a horrendously lazy title and cover art that evokes comparisons to those awful straight-to-video National Lampoon movies. If anything, “This” — which centers around Paul (Christopher Gorham), a professional student who has procrastinated for years on his dissertation, and James (Nelson Franklin), the best friend who enters them in a pub trivia tournament to escape the doldrums of their fruitless academic pursuits — swings too forcefully in the other direction. It’s juvenile, but in a depressing, starving-academic way instead of anything as wacky as the beer can pile on the cover implies. The trivia competition provides some excitement, but its participants deride it as meaningless so often that you start believing them. In between, there’s Paul’s story, which feels too insular and semi-autobiographical to resonate like it should. Who feels sorry for somebody riding his professor father’s (Ralph Williams) coattails while receiving endless funding to write a dissertation no one could possibly want to read? Don’t all raise your hands at once. In fairness to “This,” it’s thoughtfully written and occasionally oddly inspiring between (and sometimes during) moments of self-loathing. Every now and then, it’s also funny, and at no point is it nearly as crummy as its horrid first impression would imply. Too much goes awry for it to garner more acclaim than that, but it’s worth noting all the same.
Extras: Filmmakers commentary, deleted scenes, outtakes, two behind-the-scenes features.

Killer Elite (R, 2011, Universal)
Though it flirts along the edge, “Killer Elite” isn’t quite as generic as a superficial glance at its storyline — a retired contract killer (Jason Statham) getting back into the game to save his mentor (Robert De Niro) and help him bring down a shadowy private military’s mastermind (Clive Owen) — initially suggests. But what’s that about this being based on a true story? “Elite” declares as much in its opening title card, and the 1991 novel on which it’s based — Ranulph Fiennes’ “The Feather Men” — made the same proclamation. Problem is, “Men’s” credibility as a true story has come under more fire than the sum of its characters, and Fiennes hasn’t exactly inspired confidence with his return fire. So “Elite’s” insistence on the claim — followed by a closing-credits acknowledgment of the controversy that plays the government conspiracy card — is sort of baffling and arguably reckless. Then again, without that claim to lean on, “Elite’s” course of events make an unflattering lateral demotion from pretty unbelievable to merely illogical and kind of bland. It looks good, has some mildly interesting characters and develops at a reasonably satisfying pace, and as action movies that don’t degenerate into complete idiocy go, it suffices. But “Elite” never really aspires to do more than suffice, and that reasonably satisfying pace is too heavy on predictable, stock turns of events to make its stakes very compelling.
Extra: Deleted scenes.

The Guard (R, 2011, Sony Pictures)
It isn’t every day FBI agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) makes a new friend, and there would seemingly never be a day in which the opening line of that new friendship is, “I thought only black lads were drug dealers.” But such is the mindset of Irish police Sgt. Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson), whose follow-up proclamation that his Irish heritage makes him biologically racist by design comes off more sweetly naive than defiant. Everett and Boyle are unlikely teammates in an investigation of a string of murders and a monstrous, potentially-related drug deal set to unfold in sleepy Galway. The fish-out-of-water implications of a black American FBI agent working at the mercy of an insular Irish village and a cop who temporarily halts the investigation because it’s his scheduled day off are immense. Happily, “The Guard” takes wondrous advantage, crafting a bitterly funny reluctant buddy comedy that, rather shockingly, may also be the sweetest movie you ever see about racist cops and assault rifle-wielding federal agents. “The Guard” doesn’t trivialize the crime at the center of everything, but rather than make the case the story, it mines it and assembles an unbelievably fun cast of heroes, villains, innocent bystanders and bit players. More than merely the best buddy comedy of 2011, “The Guard” also is a clinic on the art of creating throwaway characters whose presence feels every bit as essential as that of the leads.
Extras: Director/Gleeson/Cheadle commentary, deleted/extended scenes, behind-the-scenes feature.

Contagion (PG-13, 2011, Warner Bros.)
We’ve all already seen a movie or five about a worldwide pandemic, so what makes yet another one so interesting? It isn’t the loaded cast. Nor is it the chance to tell a new strain of an old story in the era of Twitter, bloggers scooping old media and bird and swine flu scares that morphed from terror to punchline awfully quickly. Those things absolutely play a part, sure. But what ultimately makes “Contagion” special is the unbelievable level of calm that permeates throughout. It isn’t detached, nor is it dull, nor is “Contagion” a story about officials and scientists at work while an underrepresented public loses its mind far away from the picture. All sides are portrayed, and it’s an ordinary guy (Matt Damon) and his daughter (Anna Jacoby-Heron) who emerge from a heavy field of candidates as the story’s strongest catalysts. There’s no way to vet “Contagion’s” authenticity unless something like this ever really happens, but it’s avoidance of easy sensationalism in favor of considerable substance — the microcosmic theme of loved ones looking out for one another, the macrocosmic conundrum of a few qualified minds struggling to placate an impatient global population as distributing a cure becomes a more daunting problem than even creating it — is pretty extraordinary. The character count is high, the crisis is massive and the setting covers the whole planet, but “Contagion” never stops minding the little details en route to becoming the class of its genre. Marion Cotillard, Gwyneth Paltrow, Laurence Fishburne, Kate Winslet and Jude Law, among others, also star.
Extra: Three behind-the-scenes features.

Justified: The Complete Second Season (NR, 2011, Sony Pictures)
Thank goodness U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens (Timothy Olyphant) is a work of fiction. Were he a real U.S. marshal, he almost certainly would take his old post back in Miami when the powers that be offer it to him in the first episode of “Justified’s” second season. Fortunately, he declines, and so commence the further adventures of an old-fashioned federal agent trying to make sense of the absolutely (and wonderfully) sprawling crime scene that is his Kentucky hometown. “Justified” takes advantage of that small-town setting to give us a cop-versus-crook standoff that only a small town can provide, blurring the lines between friends, enemies, polite contempt and brazen (albeit strangely cordial) disrespect to an unbelievably fun degree. Season two improves on its predecessor by fully embracing the storytelling style that the first season eventually settled on after some light early struggles. And don’t mistake the downfall of the Crowder crime family as a sign that Boyd Crowder (Walton Goggins) is following them out the door. Goggins, once slotted to be a guest star for a couple first season episodes, is now on board as a starring cast member, and the continued development of Boyd and his relationship with Raylan is one of the better storylines on any television show right now. Joelle Carter, Nick Searcy, Jacob Pitts, Erica Tazel and Natalie Zea round out a great ensemble cast, and Margo Martindale, Brad William Henke and Jeremy Davies magnificently fill the Crowder void as the big, bad Bennett clan.
Contents: 13 episodes, plus deleted scenes, outtakes, a roundtable discussion and two behind-the-scenes features.

Dispatch (NR, 2011, Monarch Home Entertainment)
Once a promising screenwriter with a big-studio deal, Nick (Michael Bershad) has since tumbled into obscurity as a Hollywood limousine company’s dispatch operator. And on the night of a big movie premiere that will tax his company’s resources all by itself, everything festering in the pit of Nick’s stomach — the last leg of a crumbling marriage he badly wants to save, the disappointment stemming from that tumble into obscurity, the need (and opportunity) to take a major gamble in hopes of escaping the doldrums and having better days in front of him — comes to a head. As can be deduced by anyone capable of putting two and two together, the symbolism of working a red carpet event as a dispatcher instead of walking down that carpet as a screenwriter is screaming to be noticed. But while “Dispatch” acknowledges that on-the-nose dichotomy, it does so with a nod rather than a needlessly long and weepy embrace. Then, admirably and successfully, it moves on to something more complicated than the easy story device. A brief moment or two aside, “Dispatch” takes place entirely inside the company walls and within the span of that single evening, and while it amounts to one heck of a day at the office for Nick, the illustration of his mounting discontent is a terrific testament to the less-is-more school of storytelling. If uncomfortably long and descriptive silences was an Oscar category, the one that pierces this movie’s last act would win without a fight. No extras.

Bobby Fischer Against the World (NR, 2011, Docurama)
Anyone with any interest in the amazing rise and completely crazy fall of chess legend Bobby Fischer may very well know all of “Bobby Fischer Against the World’s” secrets before it reveals them. Through books, dramatizations and other documentaries, the story already has been told and retold. But there’s a difference between bearing witness to accounts and recreations of Fischer’s madness and bearing witness to the madness itself. “World” culls footage from Fischer’s teenage and professional years to tell a dense account of his initial ascent and descent, and its retelling of Fischer’s 1972 World Chess Championship showdown against Boris Spassky — complete with footage of the match, its near-collapse between games and a worldwide audience watching every move — is so wild as to look like fiction. “World” isn’t spotless: Its examination of chess as a game and a trigger for mental illness, in particular, feels half-baked. But the final stretch of Fischer’s life — his comments on 9/11, the 2004 detainment in Japan, a return to the public eye in Iceland a year later — is less familiar ground to casual observers, and “World” saves some of its most striking moments for that last leg. Here, more than anywhere else in the film, we see Fischer completely unfiltered, a bit unburdened and — in perhaps “World’s” most purely revelatory moment — a bit recognizant of all the potential he let wither and die.
Extras: A Feature on the history of chess, a feature on the fight for Fischer’s estate.

Mildred Pierce (NR, 2011, HBO)
Every year, great books become cramped movies when they probably should have fleshed themselves out as miniseries instead. Every once in a while, the opposite happens. “Mildred Pierce” comes based on the 1941 novel of the same name and tells the story of the titular character (Kate Winslet), whose collapsing marriage amid the Great Depression forces her to fend for herself in a world that isn’t exactly friendly to single mothers fending for themselves. Unlike the Oscar-winning 1945 movie, this five-part version has all the time in the world to bring the book’s every last detail to life, and it rises high to the occasion. Provided you’re willing to just coast leisurely through those details during parts of those five hours, such devotion to the source material isn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Pierce” surrounds outbreaks of storyline growth with consecutive scenes’ worth of downtime and idle character development, and given the polished presentation, attention to period detail and considerable skill of Winslet and her castmates (Melissa Leo, Guy Pearce, James LeGros), idle time need not mean wasted time. Sometimes, though, “Pierce” slows and stalls to the point where even polish can’t cover for it. If, for instance, you aren’t particularly fond of Mildred’s semi-bratty oldest daughter Veda (Morgan Turner/Evan Rachel Wood) — whose role here is considerably more pronounced than it was in the movie — her domination of part four may challenge your will to get to part five. “Pierce” redeems itself in time for the finale, and it hits more than it misses. But its failings stand as proof that ample time alone can’t ensure that a book’s finer points will translate to screen without losing something along the way.
Extras: Commentary on parts three and five.

I Don’t Know How She Does It (PG-13, 2011, Anchor Bay)
There’s nothing wrong with a little genre blending … unless, of course, the blend becomes so muddled as to undermine a movie’s intentions in the first place. “I Don’t Know How She Does It” uabashedly has intentions, and its means of expressing them range from the occasional screed about the perils of being a mom in the corporate workforce to the similarly familiar story of a working woman (Sarah Jessica Parker as Kate, the “She” in the needlessly literal title) finding her soul just as her neglected family is about to tell the search party to go home. Problem is, this is supposed to be funny. “IDKHSDI” gets off to a reasonably funny start, using multiple-character narration and some “Fight Club”-esque mental illustrations to suggest this will be a new twist on an old tale. But the longer the movie carries on, the less concerned it becomes with being funny, and as the need to amuse fades, a distressingly high volume of naked whining and preaching takes its place. “IDKHSDI” never totally goes off the rails, and even when the grousing and evangelizing reaches its shamelessly literal zenith, it’s never so soulless or stupid as to become intolerable. But tolerable is a long way from great, and “IDKHSDI’s” awkward leap from comedy to drama need not be disastrous to still be disappointing. Pierce Brosnan, Olivia Munn, Greg Kinnear, Seth Meyers, Christina Hendricks and Kelsey Grammer also star.
Extra: Interview with author Allison Pearson, who wrote the semi-autobiographical novel (of the same name) on which the movie is based.

Worth mentioning
— “Greatest Super Bowl Moments (NR, 2012, NFL/Vivendi): Between the title on the front and the NFL Films pedigree on the back, the whole thing kind of sells itself, doesn’t it? With that said, it is worth noting that in addition to upholding its brand’s high standards of storytelling, “Moments” also doesn’t just settle for the usual suspects. The 156-minute runtime provides ample room for every Super Bowl up to now, and “Moments” mines even the most lopsided games for what little gold they had. Extras include three expanded features — on the semantics of winning, the onside kick from Super Bowl XLIV, and the agony of head coach Sam Wyche, whose Bengals let their lead slip away with only 34 seconds left to play in Super Bowl XXIII.
— “Transformers: The Japanese Collection” (NR, 1987, Shout Factory): 2011 was a pretty productive year for “Transformers” fans: They finally got a movie that wasn’t completely terrible, and the first volume of the revered Japanese cartoon — which directly followed the events of the American cartoon but never made it to America in any polished, official capacity — finally arrived on DVD. Provided you don’t mind buying that volume again, 2012 won’t be half-bad, either. “Transformers: The Japanese Collection” includes all 114 episodes (in their original Japanese with new English subtitles) from all three volumes (the previously-released “Headmasters,” plus “Super-God Masterforce” and “Victory”), and each volume has at least one art gallery as an extra. It’s available only at shoutfactorystore.com, which, unfortunately, doesn’t offer the second and third volumes for sale by themselves if you already own “Headmasters.”

The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret: Season One (NR, 2009, IFC)
Todd Margaret (David Cross) made an accidental detour into a gold mine when his clueless new boss (Will Arnett) badly misinterpreted a phone call and rewarded him with a ridiculous promotion and a chance to sit at the head of the company table in its new London office. But as “The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret” demonstrates right there in the title, it’s a downhill slide from here — such a slide, if the flash-forward at the top of every episode is to be believed, that Todd has somehow committed every crime imaginable two weeks later. Subtlety has no place in “TIPDTM’s” storytelling, which takes the socially detestable stylings of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and wraps it around a lead who makes Larry David look almost pleasant by comparison. It may be the most aggressive campaign a sitcom has ever embarked on to make viewers completely despise its main character. Fortunately, a lack of subtlety need not be synonymous with a lack of wit. “TIPDTM’s” storylines are as brazenly dumb and crude as most of the imbeciles it tasks with carrying them out, but the writing that brings these stories to life is consistently legitimately amusing, with more sharply hilarious hits than detestable misses. The easily offended need not apply, but fans of the Cross-Arnett connection almost certainly should. Blake Harrison and Sharon Horgan also star.
Contents: Six episodes (one extended, all with commentary), plus deleted scenes, three behind-the-scenes features and bloopers. Also, in what may be an industry first, the special features have a special feature that contains outtakes from the special features.

The First Grader (PG-13, 2010, National Geographic)
While the Mau Mau’s efforts to overthrow Britain’s colonization of Kenya ultimately were successful, the cost of success was incalculably high. For Mau Mau veteran Kimani N’gan’ga Maruge (Oliver Litondo), the cost included witnessing the horrors of war firsthand, but it also meant never having access to even a rudimentary education. Now 84, Maruge wants another chance to learn to read — even if it means learning in an overcrowded classroom stuffed with children who are entirely (and delightfully) amused to have him there. Though a dramatization, “The First Grader” is based on a true story, and you can debate whether its allegiance to telling Maruge’s whole story is to its benefit or detriment. Flashbacks to Maruge’s past illustrate the horrors he witnessed with considerably more resonance than simply describing them could, but the images of murder and torture make “Grader” a much tougher sell for teachers and parents who want to share the story with children. Elsewhere, simplistic supporting characters undermine the movie’s ability to connect with older audiences: Those in charge of either welcoming Maruge to the school or turning him away come off either as complete angels or soulless stonehearts, with little grey in between. But “Grader’s” failings are easily forgiven whenever it shines a light on Maruge, his fellow students, and the moments he and the kids share in between flashbacks, bureaucratic spats and other adult intrusions. There aren’t enough of them, but the ones we do get put Maruge’s pursuit — and the pursuit of education in general — in inspiring perspective.
Extras: Short documentary about the real Maruge, behind-the-scenes feature, interviews, Global Campaign for Education PSA.

Apollo 18 (PG-13, 2011, Anchor Bay)
Like the tag line says, there’s a reason we stopped going to the moon after Apollo 17, and it had nothing to do with the national budget. As it turns out, there was a top-secret 18th Apollo mission — so secret, the astronauts’ families were told it was a training mission and the astronauts themselves (Warren Christie, Ryan Robbins) had no idea what the Dept. of Defense knew was waiting for them on the moon. “Apollo 18″ represents the faux-public unveiling of the faux-mission footage that mysteriously resurfaced decades later. And like the (too) many other recent movies that are assembled completely from mock found footage, it’s bound to a rhythm that makes it elementarily predictable for most of the way. Mockumentary-style introductions give way to mundanity designed as character development, which steps aside for a false alarm or two and some poorly-filmed teases before the bus finally hits the highway. Fortunately, “Apollo 18’s” premise is more novel than yet another zombie or ghost invasion, and the predictable cycle gets more mileage simoly by setting itself on the moon. Consequently, when things really get going, the cause of the bedlam (without spoiling with specifics) is pretty legit in its bedlam-causing prowess. That, and the ensuing concerns about returning home, give “18’s” second half a level of tension and creep factor that runs counter to the steam-seeping boredom most found-footage movies undertake at around the same period. Given the genre’s oversaturation and suffocating limitations, that’s good enough.
Extras: Director/editor commentary, alternate endings, deleted/alternate scenes.

Brighton Rock (R, 2010, IFC Films)
Pinkie (Sam Riley) wants to expedite his ascent through the organized crime power rankings, and if that means getting his hands red with a revenge killing right beneath a busy boardwalk pier, so be it. It might have worked, too, had a waitress (Andrea Riseborough as Rose) not unwittingly stumbled into possession of evidence linking his cohorts to the murder. Luckily for Pinkie, she’s cute, so seducing her won’t be a total nightmare even though he furiously resents her role in forking his seemingly smooth road up the ladder. “Brighton Rock” has some ambitions of its own, and they, too, might have been achieved if attempts at film noir in the 21st century didn’t always carry at least some unflattering scent of second-grade contrivance. There’s nothing outright offensive about that scent, mind you: As mood pieces go, “Rock” is enjoyably cold and, through Rose’s fragile eyes, consistently uncomfortable. Riley carries the movie beautifully, and his supporting cast (Helen Mirren, Jon Hurt, Andy Serkis) isn’t exactly lightweight. It is, in every respect, a good, serviceable story. But when the mood loses its rhythm and descends into melodrama, and when different strains of the same melodrama resurface regularly in a fashion that feels more like an homage to the voices of other movies than a declaration of its own, it’s enough to keep greatness at bay. These instances aren’t pervasive enough to sink “Rock,” but they appear too often to ignore outright.
Extras: Interviews, two behind-the-scenes features.

Final Destination 5 (R, 2011, Warner Bros.)
It’s hard not to smirk when a detective asks Sam (Nicholas D’Agosto) how his premonition of an extremely deadly bridge collapse provided him a chance to pull his friends off the bridge and save their lives mere moments before it collapsed for real. All Sam had to do was show him any of the preceding “Final Destination” movies, all four of which kicked off with variations of the same exact sequence of events. So here we go again: They cheated death, and you can’t cheat death, so death catches up to them, one by one, in the most ridiculously grisly fashion it can conjure. “FD5″ adds a few wrinkles about how to dodge fate a second time, but mostly, it goes through the same motions again as yet another doomed cast runs scared all the way into the closing credit roll. This declaration of creative bankruptcy aside, though, it must be acknowledged that the formula still works as intended — perhaps more so when you already know every absurd sequence of events will end miserably for some poor sitting duck. Few movies can thrive on predictability like that, so give credit to “FD5″ — which steps up its game after its leaden predecessor phoned it in — for recognizing that and having some disgusting fun toying with its audience’s sense of dread. (If you’re considering Lasik surgery anytime soon, you should first reconsider any plans you have to watch this beforehand.)
Extras: Alternate death scenes, three behind-the-scenes features.

Pete Smalls is Dead (NR, 2010, Image Entertainment)
Film director Pete Smalls is indeed dead, but K.C. (Peter Dinklage) has bigger problems — most prominently, a $10,000 debt he must repay to get his dog back — than the passing of an estranged friend. If you’re wondering how a kidnapped dog plays into the repayment of a debt that large, and if you’re also wondering how the dead guy in the title factors in despite being dead and on the other side of the country, you aren’t asking unreasonable questions. Unfortunately, “Pete Smalls is Dead” doesn’t have very many reasonable answers. It starts a little weird, gets progressively weirder with just about every scene that materializes, and by the time we get back to the matter of K.C. tracking down his dog, the story has gotten so thickly, unintelligibly tangled that it’s more fun to just forget the story and just let “Dead” fire off its remaining weirdness before stumbling into the credits. That kind of fun might suffice if you like your movies unpredictable at any cost: “Dead” most certainly is that, and within all those weeds are some funny scenes and a very likable central character in K.C.. But the zaniness carries a cost regardless of your tolerance for it, and if you find yourself waiting for “Dead” to draw you in, the arm’s length at which it keeps viewers while it commences entertaining itself goes from cute to confusing to off-putting to headache-inducing in a hurry. Mark Boone Junior, Tim Roth and Steve Buscemi, among others, also star. No extras.

Worth mentioning
— Archer: Season 2 (NR, 2011, Fox): It’s a new verse, but one similar to the first. The International Secret Intelligence Service continues to suffer from the effects of the recession, but mostly, it ails from being run by a team of agents whose ability to outwit terrorists is nearly miraculous in light of their complete inability to function like adults. Also unchanged: “Archer’s” penchant for packing an hour’s worth of comedy into every 22-minute episode, tossing out brilliant throwaway lines by the dozen and barreling though clever storylines with breathlessly funny speed. Season two improves on its predecessor by digging deeper into Sterling Archer’s psyche while also delegating more of the storytelling to his cohorts. At no point whatsoever, though, does the depth come at the expense of comedy. Includes 13 episodes, plus a Comic-con panel, an interview with Archer (not the actor who voices him, but Archer himself) and two other similarly random mini-features.
— “The Life & Times of Tim: The Complete Second Season” (NR, 2010, HBO): On the other end of the animation-for-adults spectrum, there’s “The Life & Times of Tim.” Where “Archer” looks slick, talks fast and hides sharply funny adult themes inside cutely juvenile behavior, “Tim” looks crude, opts for humor so dry it itches, and uses the freedom afforded by being on HBO to hide its adult themes behind no guise whatsoever. The result of that approach doesn’t isn’t as relentlessly funny, but it is consistently amusing, and the complete lack of scruples is novel even by the fearless standards of the modern cartoon. Includes 20 half-episodes over 10 shows, plus a behind-the-scenes feature.

Midnight in Paris (PG-13, 2011, Sony Pictures)
Gil (Owen Wilson) is a successful screenwriter-turned-struggling novelist. He’s in Paris with his future wife (Rachel McAdams), who is so-so, and future in-laws (Kurt Fuller, Mimi Kennedy), who tolerate but openly wonder to his face what is wrong with him. (He just sort of stands there and takes it.) The protagonist in Gil’s not-quite novel is a guy who romanticizes the past while just sort of existing in the present, and you need not be a doctor to realize Gil is stumbling over his unfinished novel because he may be writing a dramatized autobiography instead. If this sounds too mundane for even Woody Allen’s pen to bring to soul-searching, life-affirming life, here’s what you need to know: One evening, when Gil is left to his own devices and the clock strikes midnight, something happens. And if you have even a passing interest in “Midnight in Paris,” even dropping a name or glossing over a spare detail pertaining to that something would just be wrong. That “Paris” is Allen’s doing becomes immediately apparent from the first instant Gil opens his mouth to purge a psychiatrist’s sofa’s worth of insecurity over what should just be lunch. But the confident and impossibly smooth way “Paris” takes that tide, turns it sideways and rides it into a wholly extraordinary second act is so awesome that it’s best to just let it steer and ask questions later. In this era of remakes, reboots, hand-holdings and suffocating needs to explain every glance toward left field, magic like this is too rare to invoke concerns about how it’s made.
Extras: Behind-the-scenes feature, photo gallery.

Blackthorn (R, 2011, Magnolia)
It long has been suggested that Butch Cassidy didn’t actually die at the hands of the Bolivian Army in 1908, but in fact lived quietly and peacefully for many years past his supposed death. We likely never will know if we don’t know by now, but if you’d like to play the “what if” game, the year’s arguable best Western would like to play with you. “Blackthorn” takes us to 1927, where Cassidy (Sam Shepard) — peacefully ducking the radar under the pseudonym James Blackthorn — finally succumbs to his desire to leave Bolivia and see home one last time. Early during the trek back, he gets tangled with a troubled robber (Eduardo Noriega), and while the friendship isn’t near so warm as the one “Blackthorn” details via flashbacks of a younger Butch (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and the Sundance Kid (Padraic Delaney), the imposing twosome they form is enough to evoke comparisons. “Blackthorn” certainly gives the relationship all the time it needs to ferment: Though bullets do fly and blood is shed, the story of where Blackthorn came from and is headed next is a heavy character study that derives more from a sideways glance than a gunshot to the chest. The raw tone of that character development works in concert with well-paced timeline shifts to wring “Blackthorn” wholly dry of dull moments, and even when the action sleeps, tension never stops lurking. Crafting even spiritual sequels to a “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” is no endeavor for the faint of heart, but even if not a frame of “Blackthorn” is factually accurate, Butch would be hard-pressed to ask for a better second act than this one.
Extras: Short films “Breaking And Entering” and “Say Me,” two behind-the-scenes features.

Margin Call (R, 2011, Lions Gate)
There is no way the 2008 financial meltdown happened as simply as presented in “Margin Call,” which distills it down to one long day, one longer night, one company and one executive (Jeremy Irons) whose desire to throw a torn bandage on everything and bolt for the exit runs counter to the low-level (Zachary Quinto, Penn Badgley) and high-level (Kevin Spacey, Simon Baker, Paul Bettany, Demi Moore, Stanley Tucci) employees who must shoulder the emotional burden of causing untold damage on their way out the door. But as the preceding run-on sentence implies, it isn’t quite so simple as you might expect a two-hour dramatization of a frightfully complex issue to be. “Call” doesn’t ask us to feel bad for those hamstrung employees, nor does it position anybody as a pure-hearted angel who wasn’t in this job for the money. But in place of sympathetic heroes (there weren’t any) and surprise twists (because reducing this to a bloody thriller or changing the ending would be insulting), “Call” simply humanizes its characters and lets the story play out. Some are trapped inside a situation they can’t change, some are voiceless grunts, and some (particularly Spacey’s Sam Rogers, the best-realized of a great lot) are facing other forces that put into perspective what a sham their day-to-day lives are. The larger financial picture inevitably gets pared down for easy consumption, but “Call’s” message about its effect — transmitted verbally, non-verbally, in the heat of conflict and occasionally straight from a guilty conscience springing a leak — is resonant all the same.
Extras: Director/producer commentary, deleted scenes (with commentary), two behind-the-scenes features, photo gallery.

Burke & Hare (NR, 2010, IFC Films)
“Burke & Hare’s” first refreshing moment comes almost straight away, when our friendly narrator describes the setting — 1828, Scotland, a self-described age of enlightenment — and immediately jabs a pin into the enlightenment balloon by saying what you’re probably thinking as the camera swings around the public. Somewhere in this crowd are William Burke (Simon Pegg) and William Hare (Andy Serkis), two poor, talent-deficient friends in search of any hustle that nets them enough pounds to make it to the next hustle. Elsewhere, two doctors (Tim Curry, Tom Wilkinson) scramble to acquire cadavers for use as teaching tools for an exploding medical scene. Burke and Hare stumble into a fresh cadaver, deliver it to one of the docs, net a handsome payday, and decide they need to keep this racket going. Now there’s just the matter of what to do when demand for dead bodies outstrips supply. “Hare” establishes a jovially dark comic tone with that opening-scene jab, and it holds that note as it amusingly dresses down everyone — be they doctors, scoundrels, police, love interests (Isla Fisher) or anyone in between — in town. Once we arrive at the matter of Burke’s and Hare’s financial sustainability, the vocal range between cheerful and dark is so wide that pretty much anything goes. “Hare” is funny, first and foremost. But its best gift is how guiltlessly easy it makes it to root for the dregs of humanity as they forcibly earn the scumbag tag. It may not be a picture of enlightenment by any stretch, but that doesn’t “Hare” doesn’t have a few surprises.
Extras: Deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes feature, interviews, outtakes.

Catch .44 (R, 2011, Anchor Bay)
“Catch .44″ is a fun little movie about an attempted major drug deal, an attempt to hijack that deal, and an attempt to clean up the inevitable mess that ensues when plans go sideways. And if “fun” is prerequisite enough, perhaps it’s all we need to look past all the things this one isn’t. “44′s” eventual quagmire includes a lot of good characters and a great cast (Forest Whitaker, Bruce Willis, Malin Akerman, Nikki Reed, Deborah Ann Woll) bringing them to life. The presentation is lively, the dialogue vibrant, the progression of events a nice mix of things said and unsaid. But the thing about “44″ is that all this lively buildup doesn’t really build into much of anything. For all its talking, posturing and (eventual) bloodletting, the prize at stake never seems remotely worth the struggle. The background exposition of some of “44′s” key players (especially Willis’ underutilized character, who lynchpins the whole thing) promises the moon but rarely delivers it, and when everything settles, you might find yourself wondering why what happened just happened. Then again, maybe you won’t. “44′s” disposition and flair for the dramatic are enthusastic enough to marginalize its shortcomings if you don’t take it too seriously. The story’s silly, but everyone seems to be having a blast telling it, and the fun they’re having is infectious enough to leave well enough alone.
Extras: Writer/director/editor commentary.

Warrior (PG-13, 2011, Lions Gate)
“Warrior” proves you can indeed have it all — if all you want is as many Oscar movie tropes as can reasonably coexist inside of 140 minutes. Ostensibly, “Warrior” is the story of Tommy (Tom Hardy) and Brendan (Joel Edgerton), two brothers both entering a prestigious mixed martial arts tournament as heavy underdogs. But it’s also about Paddy (Nick Nolte), the recovering alcoholic father who attempts to mend fences with his estranged sons by training them. The brothers are estranged with one another as well, and each faces a separate cocktail of financial, professional and/or personal issues that feed into or arise from their MMA ambitions. There’s baggage all over “Warrior’s” emotional conveyor belt, and just in case the domestic issues aren’t enough, a handful of war flashbacks are on hand to play into one fighter’s character makeup. What results from this mashup is a polished, well-spoken, well-acted movie that on appearance alone does for MMA what “Raging Bull” or “Rocky” did for boxing. But coursing beneath all the polish is a nagging sensation that you’ve seen every piece of this story elsewhere. “Warrior’s” characters feel like walking means to Oscar-scene ends more than original creations, and what unfolds around them — from how the tournament progresses to how all that baggage spills off the side between bouts — is similarly hackneyed. It wears it heart up and down its sleeve, but it’s a heart that beats to the rhythm of all the movies that paved its way and did it better. (Never mind that the cover art spoils everything.)
Extras: Edgerton/filmmakers commentary, half-hour making-of documentary, selected-scene commentary with Nolte, deleted scene (with commentary), MMA strategy feature, Charles “Mask” Lewis, Jr. tribute, bloopers.