The Last Stand (R, 2013, Lions Gate)
It isn’t Arnold Schwarzenegger’s fault he’s getting old, even if nine years in politics probably expedited the process somewhat. But if one thing is clear the instant Schwarzenegger turns around and steps into Sheriff Ray Owens’s shoes for his first star vehicle since 2003′s “Terminator 3,” it’s that he is, indeed, looking old. Fortunately, whether he’s overmatched is a question for another day, because whether by design or by happy accident, “The Last Stand” doesn’t really put him in a position to fail. In character, Ray isn’t simply old and fairly tired: He’s also pretty small potatoes, manning a post in a minuscule middle-of-nowhere town while a chase involving a federal agent (Forest Whitaker) and an extremely gifted and wanted drug kingpin (Eduardo Noriega) rages around him and over his head. What happens next is as B-movie comic as it is action-hero serious, and even when Schwarzenegger gets to chew scenery as the top name on the marquee, he usually does so in the company of good guys and bad guys who are crazier, feistier, stupider and generally more out of touch with their mortality than Ray is. “Stand” isn’t a sterling movie by any measure, but it’s a stupidly fun good time that embraces its place as a live-action cartoon and takes itself not a tick more seriously than that. Schwarzenegger plays along gamely, and rather than look old and out of place, he fits right in as a valuable piece of an endearingly weird puzzle. (Bonus points for perhaps the best clearing out of a cornfield since another man named Ray turned one into a baseball diamond.) Johnny Knoxville, Peter Stormare, Jaimie Alexander, Luis Guzmán and Christiana Leucas also star.
Extras: Deleted/extended scenes, three behind-the-scenes features, Dinkum Firearm and Historic Weaponry Museum tour.

Stand Up Guys (R, 2013, Lions Gate)
“Now confess each and every serious sin that separates you from Christ.” “Oh, no. We’d be here forever, Father. Can we just deal with what happened today?” Twenty eight years after he walked into prison as a fall guy, Val (Al Pacino) is an old, defeated but free man. Step one on his first day out: Reunite with old partners in crime Doc (Christopher Walken) and Hirsch (Alan Arkin). Step two: Get back into trouble. And step three? Evade the target on his head for what ostensibly is payback for what happened 28 years earlier. That’s a lot to pack into a day’s work, and as an account of all that productivity, “Stand Up Guys” regularly struggles to keep things cohesive and in the spirit of the many moods it wants to convey. Is nostalgia the prevailing emotion of the day? Loyalty? Comedy through pain? Bitterness? Maybe none of the above, and “Guys” just wants to be a wild and crazy night out with a bunch of not-so-reformed bad boys? It isn’t always clear, nor is the film’s footing all that steady. But even though all that stumbling is hard not to notice, “Guys” clomps around with an earnestness that’s palpable even when scrambled, and when it has fun, that fun is contagious even when the reasoning doesn’t always make a lot of sense. “Guys” has its heart and soul in the right place, and though the script has its share of warts, it also regularly clears the way for all three stars to ham it up and have some fun with their characters. Through all of the stumbles, that talent shines though, and for a tolerant audience, that’s all “Guys” really needs.
Extras: Director commentary, deleted scenes, three behind-the-scenes features.

Love Sick Love (R, 2013, Monarch Home Entertainment)
There’s someone out there for the hopelessly romantic Dori (Katia Winter), and for right now, she’s convinced it’s fellow serial dater Norman (Matthew Settle). Problem is, Norman is a perennial dater for different reasons, and finding love is expressly not among them. When that realization comes to a head one evening, Dori, to put it one way, just kind of goes crazy. So, too, does “Love Sick Love,” which springs a trap slightly out of nowhere that ensnares Norman in a fantasy scenario with Dori, her two children (where’d they come from? Who knows), her parents (same), and a year’s worth of family holidays crammed into a weekend that would make “Misery’s” Annie Wilkes extremely proud and perhaps a little jealous. Fittingly, like a lunatic who catches her prey and has no concept of what to do with him once caught, “Love” spends the next two acts flailing its arms and debating whether to be an extremely dark comedy or something genuinely creepy while Norman himself shuffles between being flummoxed, enraged and resigned (sometimes to funny or dark effect within the span of the same mood). In another genre, all the flailing would be violent enough to send the story completely off course and toward irreparable harm. But when the entire crux of a movie hinges on complete insanity, the line between disrepair and genius is so thin that only individual perception can decide which side ultimately wins out. That, fortunately, is part of the fun. For all its inconsistencies, “Love” at least is too consistently bizarre to be dull.
Extras: No extras.

Side Effects (R, 2013, Universal)
Following a stint for insider trading, Emily’s husband (Channing Tatum) is out of prison, and Emily (Rooney Mara) is so happy to have him back that she literally drives her car into a concrete wall shortly after his release. That’s all we get at the beginning of “Side Effects,” so that’s all it looks like. But there’s more to the story, and that comes closer to light once Emily gets her hands on an experimental antidepressant called Ablixa, which her doctor (Jude Law) prescribes following a series of unsuccessful prescriptions and a conference with her former doctor (Catherine Zeta-Jones). The Ablixa works, but there are — wait for it — side effects, and mercy, is that title ever an understatement. Without spoiling the primary side effect that sends “Side Effects” into another gear, what happens next is, in addition to pretty clever with how it parlays prescription drugs into psychological thrills, altogether remarkable in its ability to balance intrigue and restraint. Or rather, it’s all those things until it slightly, then completely, then crazily isn’t quite any of those things. Turns out, the source of some of that intrigue is just a red herring, and the only thing more disappointing than how fiercely “Effects” drives into its own wall is how stock it feels in spite of going so completely crazy in its second half. You’ve seen these psychological thriller bits and pieces before, and that’s more disappointing than it should be given how promisingly original “Effects” initially seemed poised to be.
Extras: Behind-the-scenes feature, mock Ablixa marketing materials.

A Common Man (PG-13, 2013, Anchor Bay)
You have to hand it to “A Common Man,” which found an absolute dead ringer for Ben Kingsley to play a disgruntled citizen who has planted C-4 explosives all over a Sri Lankan city and will detonate them if the government doesn’t set some dangerous prisoners free. Wait, never mind — that is Ben Kingsley, and if he looks strained, it’s probably the fault of all the dead weight he has to pile on his back in order to haul this story anywhere. The unnamed man’s endeavor, though hardly novel, is morbidly intriguing enough to carry a movie that’s serviceable enough to coast on suspense, character development or an appetite for surprise. “Man,” to its credit, has that appetite, and perhaps that’s enough. But those surprises are forced to wage one hellacious battle with a torrent of dreadful dialogue and a supporting cast incapable of making it sound better than it reads. Occasionally, “Man’s” delivery — be it through bad line readings or a suffocatingly overwrought soundtrack — just piles on the harm, and the net result feels like an amateur imitation product that spent all its positive energy snagging a first-class actor to give it some hope. Kingsley does what he can, which is enough to nudge “Man” toward a conclusion that’s entertaining in spite of the arduous mountain of problems it climbs to get there, but the view from the summit still isn’t pretty enough to make that climb worthwhile. No extras.

Cloud Atlas (R, 2012, Warner Bros.)
Oh, did you think the three-hour “Cloud Atlas” was simply a movie? It isn’t a movie. It’s six films in one if you obey the official synopsis, but it might actually be a dozen or two movies chopped and sprinkled into a salad that only can be made when three directors have a ton of money to spend and seemingly nobody minding how it’s spent. It might also be the most joyously grand or most treacherously self-indulgent piece of cinematic magic/tripe you’ve ever seen. “Atlas” takes place across time, with crisscrossing stories set in the past, present, distant future and a future even more distant than that. Albeit loosely — as in “pay attention with all your might and you’ll see it” loosely — the stories all hook together to form a single timeline. But whether these hooks even matter — enough not to find themselves completely engulfed by the surrounding spectacle, to say nothing of being profound enough to stand out in front of it — is a question contentious enough to span the entire spectrum of hyperbolic debate. Put another way? “Atlas” is completely bananas — a loud clash of epics, thrillers, science fiction, revenge fantasies and more that winds its heart up and lets it run with abandon down its sleeve. The same cast (Halle Berry, Tom Hanks, Jim Broadbent, Hugo Weaving and Doona Bae, among others) plays different roles in each story, often transcending the boundaries of race and gender via makeup that’s sometimes amazing and sometimes amusingly crazy, and “Atlas” is both way too long and not nearly long enough to do justice to its grand ambition. Watched casually, it’s a crazed mess. But “Atlas” sprays its emotion and excitement without fear or filter, and soaking it in on these terms is bound — on first, second, third viewing and beyond — to unlock new surprises every time.
Extras: Seven behind-the-scenes features.

Frankie Go Boom (NR, 2012, Universal)
You know your luck stinks when your brother (Chris O’Dowd as Bruce) is the junkie criminal and you’re the one everyone makes fun of. For Frankie (Charlie Hunnam), the source of that misfortune is a video — of him vomiting on his would-have-been-bride at his not-quite wedding — that 18 million people have seen. (Fittingly, it was his wannabe director brother who filmed and uploaded the incident.) Now with Bruce out of rehab, Frankie is taking a break from avoiding his family to attend a ceremony commemorating the achievement. The reward for his selflessness is, of course, the promise of more traumatic misfortune — provided he can’t stop it this time. In other words, wacky antics ahead, and it’s best not to specify beyond that. “Frankie Go Boom” shows promise from the jump with a very funny opening scene featuring Frankie and Bruce as children, and even though things progressively get stranger in a manner typically befitting comedies that eventually go nowhere, it never loses that edge. Why does Ron Perlman’s character dress in drag and insist he’s a woman? “Boom” never remotely bothers explaining, but it uses the gag to sharply funny effect and Perlman’s part leads to yet more legitimately funny moments, so who cares? “Boom’s” storyline is full of pieces that should work against it, but it continually escapes from underneath them with lines, antics and scenes that are seriously funny. Seeing as the primary objective of a comedy is to be funny, docking “Boom” for not always making sense would be every bit as senseless as anything that happens here. (A note for “Sons of Anarchy” fans: Yes, Perlman and Hunnam have scenes together here. And yes, beyond being novel and really weird, they’re funny as well.)
Extras: Deleted/alternate scenes, two behind-the-scenes features.

Upstream Color (NR, 2013, erbp/New Video)
That spot on a Blu-ray’s packing that’s reserved for a synopsis is, on “Upstream Color’s” packaging, occupied instead by some additional art and a couple critic quotes that are, at best, allusions. And that’s fine, because what could “Color” possibly say for itself here? Here is Kris (Amy Seimetz), here is Jeff (Shane Carruth), and here is a story that is at once extremely simple and so painstakingly opaque as to passively-aggressively scold those who avert their eyes even momentarily, lest they get lost in a scramble to catch up and reconcile the non-verbal cue they missed completely. It isn’t so much that a proper synopsis of “Color” wouldn’t do it justice. Rather, “Color’s” story — such as it is, with style relentlessly battling substance and dialogue at an extreme premium throughout — is a slow peeling away of confusion until all that remains is that premise. It wouldn’t be very nice to just give that away, now would it? So here’s the gist. “Color” is, according to the conventional classification wisdom, science fiction. Arguably, it’s also a manifestation of every validation people seek when explaining why they hate art films. Unarguably, it’s dense and seemingly by design. But “Color,” it bears repeating, is not hard to figure out. Nor does it seem to want to be elusive even if a shallow glance at its style choices — which result in imagery both beautiful and hard to watch — suggest otherwise. Most importantly, as that premise comes into focus, the patience invested gets its due. “Color” exits on an extremely affecting note, and though it has little to say for itself, it leaves behind plenty to talk about once the show is over. No extras.

A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III (R, 2013, Lions Gate)
Ivana (Katheryn Winnick) has left Charlie (Charlie Sheen), and Charlie wants her back. And for the 86 minutes that comprise “A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III,” and to the consternation of the company Charlie keeps (Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, Patricia Arquette) and eventually probably anyone watching, that’s almost all Charlie can think or talk about. “Swan” dresses its non-story up with an actual delving into Charlie’s mind, wherein pretty much anything — song, dance, car crashes and explosions — can happen in the service of metaphor. As an extra touch, “Swan” takes place in what looks like the 1970s, with clothes, hair and gigantic tape recorders and other eavesdropping devices to show for it. Some of it is amusing, particularly when Murray or Schwartzman are steering the ship and giving us a brief respite from Charlie’s moaning about Ivana. But even then, most of “Swan” just feels like silly for silly’s sake — not particularly funny, not imaginative, not even all that thoughtful, but just self-indulgently silly and that’s it. With low expectations, that might be enough. But given how much metaphorical activity happens between the first time Charlie aches over Ivana and the umpteenth and final time it happens, it’s remarkable how much, in terms of substantial emptiness, “Swan’s” collage has in common with the story it’s trying so hard to stretch out.
Extras: Writer/director commentary, two behind-the-scenes features.

Witness: A World in Conflict Through a Lens (NR, 2012, HBO)
One of the great ironies of the Information Age is that the better and faster the dissemination of information, the more we take its appearance for granted. But someone still has to witness, process and present that information, and for photographers covering wars, uprisings and other deadly conflicts half a world away, the risk (and price too often paid) for that information is their lives. “Witness” spends each of its four parts in regions — Juarez, Libya, South Sudan and Rio de Janeiro — that are burning under the pressure of rebellion, drug trafficking, gang warfare and other catalysts for regional instability. But rather than break down the nature of these conflicts from a distance, “Witness” tails different photojournalists as they document these events — often from within the heart of them, and always from an uncomfortably close range — as seen and heard through their eyes and ears. The product of that method isn’t as factually comprehensive as a detached view might be, but its effectiveness is another matter entirely. “Witness” takes massive conflicts and makes them considerably more personal by getting up close both with the people living through them and the outsiders working without a net to share these stories with the rest of the globe. That these journalists do their job so effectively as to be taken for granted is a backhanded testament to their skill and bravery, but that doesn’t make it right, so kudos to “Witness” for reopening eyes in thrilling fashion. No extras.

Jack Reacher (PG-13, 2012, Paramount)
Have you met Jack Reacher (Tom Cruise)? No, you almost certainly haven’t, because only Jack Reacher — West Point grad, Army vet and an all-world mastermind-slash-vigilante who more than once has slipped into and out of the United States like a ghost — decides who can meet Jack Reacher and when. When a sniper kills five people in the heart of Pittsburgh and the prime suspect drags Reacher’s name into it, that’s enough to perk his ears, because out of nowhere, here he is, ready to take names while also clearing his own. There’s a lot about “Jack Reacher” that, if examined at all for plausibility, could compel someone to scratch their head until a scar forms. As the story develops and Reacher transforms from an impressively good sleuth-slash-ghost to a superhero who brings fistfights to gunfights, the itch to scrutinize grows. But at that point, why bother? Yes, “Reacher” is silly, often spectacularly so, and we haven’t even discussed the particulars of the suspect, his lawyer (Rosamund Pike) or the fact that his lawyer is the prosecuting district attorney’s (Richard Jenkins) daughter. There’s lots to chew on in “Reacher’s” 130 minutes, and chew it does — loudly, ridiculously, shamelessly and to greatly entertaining effect. It isn’t always clear, when mystery gives way to thriller and thriller gives way to cartoony action movie before the mystery tags back in, what kind of movie this wants to be. But “Reacher” sure seems to be enjoying its identity crisis, and those willing to just ride along will probably have a similarly good time. David Oyelowo, Werner Herzog, Jai Courtney and Robert Duvall also star.
Extras: Cruise/director commentary, three behind-the-scenes features.

Starlet (NR, 2012, Music Box Films)
Whatever Jane (Dree Hemingway) aspires to be — presumably, it’s an actor, but vocation hardly tells the whole story — she isn’t exactly fast-tracking it. Between sleeping in, dabbling in drugs, playing Xbox and tending to a fledgling not-quite career that’s already gone sideways, just about the only thing she’s putting any serious effort into is the spoiling of her little dog. That all changes when she attends an elderly woman’s yard sale and comes away with a thermos, of all things, that’s (a) worth way more than a thermos should be worth and (b) valuable for reasons that may not be on the level. Jane tries to return the thermos, the woman (Besedka Johnson as Sadie) grouchily shoos her away, and be it out of guilt or duty or most likely some deep-seated need of her own, Jane embarks on a quest to befriend Sadie that no one — not even Jane, and certainly not the amusingly resistant Sadie — can understand. That Jane and Sadie’s dance is amusing isn’t to suggest there isn’t some sadness simmering beneath it, but to acknowledge the presence of emotional longing isn’t to dismiss “Starlet” as sad in place of funny, cheerful, dark and any number of other things as well. Subplots aplenty swarm about, and some of them either stall or sink almost as soon as they leave the dock. None of them ultimately make the movie. But all contribute in some small way to the odd, clumsy but entirely inspiring relationship that comprises “Starlet’s” core. Jane and Sadie are a mismatch on every basic level, but sometimes all that crisscrossing lets in an unlikely source of understanding that wouldn’t otherwise shine through. “Starlet” seems to get that, and its stars carry that understanding to bitter, silly and sweet fruition.
Extras: Commentary, interviews, behind-the-scenes features, audition footage.

Mama (PG-13, 2013, Universal)
On the day their parents died in separate incidents, young sisters Victoria (Megan Charpentier) and Lilly (Isabelle Nélisse) disappeared. Five years later, following a tireless and expensive search conducted by their Uncle Lucas (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), they’ve been found — living alone in a woodland cabin, acting slightly feral, and traumatized to say the least. Lucas’s musician girlfriend Annabel (Jessica Chastain) wasn’t exactly counting on two adopted daughters, much less two girls who spent half their lives in the woods, but she can only wish that was all there is to it — or that the kids were simply a little traumatized instead of full-on haunted by a presence that dials back to the day their parents left them. “Mama” is an odd case, insofar that it reveals all of this almost immediately while still behaving in a manner that can be credibly described, depending on personal taste, as deliberate or plodding. An array of jump scare false starts, mixed in with a few real ones, doesn’t help “Mama” sell its slow creep toward a resolution. But given how many haunted house stories go absolutely nowhere fast, it’s hard to take umbrage with one that goes somewhere and simply takes its time getting there. Without delving into spoilers, neither scariness nor even creepiness prove to be “Mama’s” best assets. That honor instead goes to the kids, who radiate humanity even at their least human and carry that humanity through the story’s dry table-setting and into a finale that pays all that emotion off. “Mama” ends on such an emotional high note that you might wish more time was spent here instead of on those needless jump scares. But given the near-impossibility of ending a story like this on a high note, that’s more nitpick than damning disappointment.
Extras: Original “Mama” short film (with introduction by Guillermo del Toro, who executive produced “Mama”), director/producer/writers commentary, deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes feature.

Doctors of the Dark Side (NR, 2011, Shelter Island)
The typical debate over the effectiveness and morality of torture and/or advanced interrogation techniques — go ahead and circle the term you prefer — isn’t so often a conversation as a factually-deficient shouting match that treats the issue as black or white. To that end, “Doctors of the Dark Side” likely loses its chance to engage proponents of the practice, who, thanks to that needlessly ominous name, may just dismiss the movie sight unseen. And that’s too bad, because despite that name and its unarguable anti-torture stance, “Doctors” makes a case for exploring that grey area. Assembled from declassified government documents and interviews with military, medical and legal experts, the case “Doctors” makes isn’t necessarily a blanket swipe at the practice of interrogation so much as the harm caused by inhumane methods that break a prisoner so fiercely that they barely function at all — much less become reliable wellsprings of valuable intelligence — while trained medical professionals either look the other way or compound the matter by using detainees’ mental collapses against them. Past the matter of the techniques’ humanity is the matter of whether certain methods even work, and the testimony and evidence here make a compelling argument that they don’t. It isn’t the last word, nor should it be, as there’s plenty of value in an equally compelling case for the other side of this argument. But “Doctors” fulfills its end of the bargain by presenting its case thoughtfully and more objectively than its outer presentation suggests.
Extras: Behind-the-scenes feature, two additional short features “An insider’s view of Abu Ghraib” and “How to Help Doctors Prevent Torture.”

The Oranges (R, 2012, Fox)
“The Oranges” is the story of two close families, each with a wife (Catherine Keener, Allison Janney), husband (Hugh Laurie, Oliver Platt) and daughter (Alia Shawkat, Leighton Meester). One also has a son (Adam Brody), but that isn’t pertinent right now. What is pertinent is that one of those dads, despite being best friends with the other dad, decided one wise evening to kiss his best friend’s daughter despite his own daughter’s feelings about her. (Never mind, of course, that he’s married.) It’s from there that “The Oranges” shifts from an odd would-be comedy about general suburban resentment to a sorta-is comedy about … something. Despite touching on a lot of familiar themes and hinging everything on a plot turn whose messiness needs no explanation, “The Oranges” feels like a movie that created a bunch of characters, set the whole thing around Christmastime and doesn’t really know what to do next once its big can of worms has ripped itself open. Take Platt’s character, for instance: He has a fascination with silly gadgets that exist for the sake of existing, and he demonstrates his fondness during some amusing scenes early on. But once “The Oranges” runs out of things to do with the idea, the bit just disappears (and, to a point, so does he) until the very end. Ultimately, though it was good for a couple laughs, one wonders where “The Oranges” wanted that bit to go, if it wanted it to go anywhere. And while the movie itself is never an outright drag to watch, it often engenders the same aimless feeling.
Extras: Two behind-the-scenes features.

Safe Haven (PG-13, 2013, Fox)
Roughly 25 minutes in, after Katie (Julianne Hough) has purchased yellow paint from the googly-eyed general store employee (Josh Duhamel) who may very well be the only eligible bachelor in this entire tiny seaside town, it’s easy to drift into a state of forgetfulness about “Safe Haven’s” opening moments, wherein Katie eludes a Boston police officer and boards a bus out of town. Whatever she did, it looks bad, and whatever hope she has of leaving that life behind is, naturally, unrealistic. Following a stark reminder about those opening minutes, “Haven” finds more of a balance as — ostensibly — a movie that’s half serviceable romantic drama and half serviceable thriller. Neither side really soars, but the former is likably pleasant enough and the latter has a few good surprises up its sleeve before it indulges a little excessively in over-the-top silliness later. And yet, absolutely none of this holds even the world’s smallest candle to “Haven’s” parting gift, which takes everything that just happened and tosses it into an Olympic-sized swimming pool of total craziness. For those who take to “Haven’s” serviceable and literal storytelling, what happens here is so jarring as to potentially sink the whole ship. But for those who tolerate rather than enjoy “Haven’s” decent but plain presentation and prepare never to think of it again once the credits arrive, guess what? Those plans are about to change. You’re welcome.
Extras: Alternate ending, deleted/extended scenes, three behind-the-scenes features.

Also
— “Doc Martin Special Collection: Series 1-5 + The Movies” (NR, Acorn Media): In lieu of being a complete collection — filming currently is underway for “Doc Martin’s” sixth series — the “special” in the title will do. The 13-disc set includes the first five series’ 38 episodes, the two movies, and various extras (behind-the-scenes features, photo galleries, trivia, filmographies) from the individual series sets. If you aren’t yet familiar with the show, it’s funny, deeply likable and centered around an irritable surgeon (Martin Clunes as Dr. Martin Ellingham) who develops a crippling fear of blood and the small-town neighbors who love him anyway. What else need be said?
— “Henry Jaglom Collection vol. 2: The Comedies” (R, Breaking Glass Pictures): Browse a list or overhear a conversation about renowned directors whose names you don’t but should know, and there’s a reasonably good chance Henry Jaglom’s name will pop up at some point. Should you take that point to heart, this second low-priced collection — focusing on Jaglom’s funnier side and including 1980′s “Sitting Ducks,” 1983′s “Can She Bake a Cherry Pie?” and 1989′s “New Year’s Day,” starring a pre-”X-Files” David Duchovny — offers as good a starting point as any.
— “The Great Escape” (NR, 1963, Fox): The Steve McQueen classic turns 50 with its first-ever Blu-ray edition, featuring a 4K transfer. (Unfortunately, a 4K television wasn’t handy for testing purposes, so Fox’s word will have to do for now.) Extras include a director/cast/crew commentary, eight behind-the-scenes features and the original theatrical trailer.

Silver Linings Playbook (R, 2012, Anchor Bay)
“Silver Linings Playbook” shows its hand the instant Pat (Bradley Cooper) meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), and it pledges kinship with a thousand romantic movies that came before it and a thousand more that surely will follow. And that doesn’t even matter, because the difference between this story and most of those is just how exhilarating it is to get from where we stand at that moment to the inevitable outcome “Playbook” is almost obligated to provide. Pat isn’t just a boy: He’s a bipolar boy fresh out of a psychiatric hospital who is married to an estranged wife he wants back despite her restraining order against him. And Tiffany isn’t just a girl: She’s a widow, she lost her job because of reckless promiscuity, and she has a temper on par with Pat’s and an equal sensitivity to things that can set it off. Throw in some friends and two families (Robert De Niro, Chris Tucker, Jacki Weaver, John Ortiz, Julia Stiles, Shea Whigham) with their own trials and maladies, and “Playbook” is a myriad of fragility and emotional eggshells on which to walk. And two hours of that would prove unbearably tiresome were nearly every minute not such a raging, honest, darkly funny and altogether furious shredding of all those weird feelings and the things they make people say and do. It’s hard for a movie to descend into dreariness when its heart is racing this fast. As the name implies, a happy ending is “Playbook’s” prime objective, and its characters will bare their teeth and wreak all manner of havoc until that goal is within lunging distance. It’s hard not to be at least somewhat predictable with a premise like that and pieces like these, but it’s even harder for that to matter when watching “Playbook’s” gameplan come together is this much fun.
Extras: Deleted scenes, Q&A highlights, four behind-the-scenes features.

Shelter Me (NR, 2013, Virgil Films)
Anecdotal evidence would suggest that public sentiment is increasingly on its side, but misconceptions still abound regarding the act of rescuing a shelter dog versus adopting one from a breeder or pet store. For those who approach it with mind open, “Shelter Me” wipes just about all that uncertainty away within an hour’s time, and it does so without a drop of unnecessarily passive-aggressive guilt-tripping. Effectively divided into three parts, “Shelter Me” not only charts the paths to adoption of two stray but wonderfully sweet pit bulls, but also looks in on a pair of service dog industries that help rehabilitate prisoners, homecoming soldiers and the disabled. The stories are remarkable, as is the proclamation that neither program needs to breed dogs to shore up its ranks because there are so many smart, well-mannered and trained dogs in shelters who make a natural and wildly enthusiastic transition into service dogs. But “Shelter Me’s” overwhelming takeaway is the two-way street that connects dogs who need a home with people who need a friend like them every bit as badly. Dog lovers already are well aware of the void a dog can fill in exchange for a loving home. But that messaging often gets lost amid a sea of guilt-tripping and self-righteousness that risks alienating those who express any curiosity about the rescue process. There’s a better way to discuss this, and “Shelter Me” does a heartwarming, funny and inspiring job of showing the way. No extras.

Manborg (NR, 2011, Dark Sky Films)
In the battle between man and Hell, Hell won running away. Among the casualties were two soldier brothers. One perished. The other (Matthew Kennedy) should have, but instead was preserved and rebuilt into the Robocop wannabe whose new name provides “Manborg” with its namesake. In case you’re wondering: No, “Manborg” does not take itself seriously. About the only thing it does take seriously is the nearly endangered experience of walking into a video store, finding the strangest VHS tape on the shelf, and devouring it whole. From the effects — bad green screen, casual uses of makeup, clashes between computer and stop-motion animation, color where color doesn’t naturally go — to the amazing “Bio-Cop” trailer that plays at the end of the “tape” following the credits, “Manborg” dots every i and crosses every t in its meticulous love letter to the small window of time when finding homemade independent movies was a special event instead of an hourly occurrence on YouTube. As for the story itself? “Manborg’s” titular character’s delivery is more leaden than a pencil and paint factory in the 1950s, his sidekicks include a 1980s punk rock caricature (Conor Sweeney) and a martial artist (Ludwig Lee) with built-in voice dubbing, and his story includes powerful lines like “Hey bro. It’s me, your brother.” The story gets along famously with everything else happening here, and at roughly 62 minutes long before Bio-Cop takes over and steals the show, it’s just compact enough not to overstay its welcome.
Extras: Short film “Fantasy Beyond,” director commentary, director/writer/producer commentary, deleted/alternate scenes, three behind-the-scenes features, interviews, bloopers.

The Guilt Trip (PG-13, 2012, Paramount)
Eventually, “The Guilt Trip’s” true colors shine through, and those colors form a movie that’s sweet, funny and genuinely lovable. It just takes a while to get there. “Trip” begins with Andrew (Seth Rogen), an inventor struggling mightily to sell his creation and, among other things, find love. His mom Joyce (Barbra Streisand) pays a visit, tells him a story of a long-lost love of her own, and Andrew books a road trip during which he can pitch his product and secretly track down this lost love. Between here and there, though, “Trip” takes two descents — first into cliched “mom nags son and embarrasses him by saying the darnedest things” territory, then deeper into a swarm of ill will, fighting and comic relief that, save for a funny line or two, feels like it isn’t even trying. This goes on long enough to make it a safe bet that this is all “Trip” is. But then, following the inevitable low point that was etched in stone numerous scenes earlier, things turn around. “Trip” very nearly gets whiplash in doing so, but the mood shift doesn’t feel contrived or heavy. To the contrary, the movie’s best and funniest scene also is the one that guides the film around this hairpin turn. There’s even a good surprise or two waiting in the last act, which was unfathomable during the uninspired first half. It’s still too bad all that time goes mostly to waste, but if we’re only getting half of an excellent movie, much better it be the second half than the first.
Extras: Deleted scenes, three behind-the-scenes features.

The Details (R, 2011, Anchor Bay)
Jeff (Tobey Maguire) and Nealy (Elizabeth Banks) have been married for what we can presume are 10 pretty good years. And that’s something of a miracle when “The Details” reveals just how ready that wall was to wobble and fall down. All it took were some raccoons, an unstable next door neighbor (Laura Linney), a shoulder to cry on (Kerry Washington) and two people (Ray Liotta and Dennis Haysbert) who want to return favors for diametrically different reasons. That a collapse of some kind is imminent isn’t a spoiler: A narrating Jeff comes out and says so — and admits everything that happens next is his fault — right at the top. Naturally, the surprises lie in the details, and perhaps the biggest surprise is that a movie called “The Details” isn’t always mindful of them itself. As dark comedies go, “The Details” offers plenty to like, and that likability starts with Jeff, whose Boy Scout face and mannerisms fly gloriously in the face of nearly everything he does, good intentions or not. Without naming names and spoiling spoilers, similar kudos go to his supporting characters, whose own doings give Jeff a chance to achieve the sympathetic character status he probably doesn’t deserve. But a story that starts strong and spirals magnificently out of control eventually finds itself backed into a corner with a lot of loose ends and a weird mood that splits the difference between dark comedy and something genuinely flirting with detestable. An extremely limp ending is the price “The Details” pays for not minding the little things more carefully, and while it’s not so bad as to undo the fun of the first two acts, it’s a buzzkill all the same.
Extras: Alternate beginning and ending.

Not Fade Away (R, 2012, Paramount)
The best, strangest, most I-don’t-care-who-is-watching-or-what-they-think scene in “Not Fade Away” happens at the very very end, wherein the story’s closing moment morphs into a thesis hypothesis and then a spontaneous dance number that loops back around to “Fade’s” earlier moments and the promise they held for both the characters and us. In between, “Fade” is the story of Douglas (John Magaro), the music he wants to play, the rock ‘n’ roll dream he chases in lieu of college, the girl (Bella Heathcote) he can’t get out of his mind and the people (namely his father, played by James Gandolfini, who inadvertently steals every scene he’s in) he angers and defies along the way. All of it is set amid the backdrop of the 1960s, because of course it is. When was the last time you saw a story about a rock ‘n’ roll dream painted atop the romantic landscapes of the 1980s or 2000s? Few movies would attempt something that weird, and outside of its last few minutes, “Fade” is no exception. Douglas’s story is blessed with reverence, attention to detail, strong writing and a strong cast carrying it out. But we’ve had this dream umpteen times already, and there’s nearly nothing “Fade” does that sets it apart from the similar and often fresher stories that preceded it. No extras.

Broken City (R, 2013, Fox)
Though not convicted of murder or even brought to trial, NYPD detective Billy Taggart’s (Mark Wahlberg) fatal shooting of a man was politically hot enough for Mayor Nicholas Hostetler (Russell Crowe) to stifle some evidence and take Taggart’s badge away to keep it buried. Seven years later, Taggart is teetering as a reformed alcoholic, a struggling private detective and the boyfriend of the woman (Natalie Martinez) whose sister was murdered by the man he killed. That, sadly, is the kind of ludicrous “Broken City” covets. Mayor Hostetler enlists Taggart to investigate his wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones), whom he suspects is having an affair, and once Taggart takes the case, he’s quickly embroiled in a much uglier and dangerous mess than he originally anticipated. Not surprisingly, the same mayor who buried evidence seven years ago isn’t on the level this time either — and did we mention it’s an election year? “City” throws so many balls in the air that it would seem able to just coast into some sort of entertaining finish. Instead, all those balls just crash into each other and create a maelstrom of muddled storytelling that manages to be both ridiculous and completely ravaged by cliche at once. Pretty much no one outside of Taggart’s assistant (Alona Tal) is all that likable, and even she pushes her luck when the obnoxious low-rent-cop-drama dialogue gets too cute for anybody’s good. “City” regularly tries obscuring its vanilla storylines with diversions, be it cute dialogue, political messaging that culminates in a painfully long mayoral debate scene, or girlfriend/alcohol melodrama that falls almost comically flat. But all these diversions do is pile unappealing layers onto a tired, derivative core that’s unappealing enough on its own.
Extras: Alternate ending, deleted/extended scenes, behind-the-scenes documentary.

G-Dog (NR, 2012, Docurama)
So much ink and air is spent daily on theories about how to curtail gang violence and turn young people’s lives around, which makes it all the more incredible that a working model exists and remains generally unknown by many of the folks wringing their hands. Father Greg Boyle’s Los Angeles-based Homeboy Industries has honed its rehabilitative efforts to the tune of a staggering 70 percent success rate, job and business creation, and imitation models around the world. So why does an effective solution to a seemingly unstoppable worldwide problem have to struggle to keep its doors open? Good question, and one even “G-Dog” nor Boyle himself can completely answer. But “G-Dog” isn’t really here to bemoan the realities of operating a 300-employee operation that’s free without strings to those willing to take a chance on it. Boyle, whose sense of humor and wit are as exemplary as his ability to turn kids’ lives around, is not one for self-pity. Neither are the employees, many of whom are former cases who revere Boyle like a father while emulating his work and stepping into leadership positions of their own. Homeboy Industries’ fight to stay afloat is a large part of “G-Dog’s” narrative, but it’s the people fighting for it — and the amazing model that turned them into fighters — that easily is the film’s most gratifying takeaway. No extras.

Any Day Now (R, 2012, Music Box Films)
When Rudy (Alan Cumming) barges into his neighbor’s unlocked apartment to chew her out after another full night of her stereo playing on blast, what he finds instead is her teenage son Marco (Isaac Leyva) huddled in a corner by himself, where he presumably has been all night after his drug-addled mom (Jamie Anne Allman as Marianna) skipped out to go who knows where. Rudy watches over Marco that morning, and when the inevitable day comes when Marianna is jail-bound and the state comes to retrieve Marco, Rudy launches an endeavor to adopt him and keep him out of the system. Were “Any Day Now” set today under vanilla conditions, Rudy would have an uphill fight on his hands. But Marco has Down syndrome, which makes him both a special case and that much tougher to match with capable and willing parents. Rudy, meanwhile, is a gay drag queen, and the district attorney (Garret Dillahunt as Paul) with whom he wants to raise Marco is compelled to hide their relationship while providing navigation through this bureaucratic minefield. And because things aren’t difficult enough, “Day” is set in the 1970s, when attitudes about gay parents’ ability to raise any child — never mind one with special needs — were 40 years more antiquated than they are now. Were “Day” not based on a true story, it might come off as so unbelievably loaded as to flirt with self-parody. But no one would recount this story if that’s all there was to it, and “Day” handles all that gravity with the complex care — some heartache for sure, but plenty of fury, elation and adoration of the purest kind as well — it deserves. What so easily could have been a tale of abstracts instead is a captivating story about Rudy, Paul and especially Marco. They inherit those abstracts, but those abstracts don’t define them, and they certainly don’t dictate where their story goes.
Extras: Isaac’s audition, two behind-the-scenes features.

Happy People: A Year in the Taiga (NR, 2010, Music Box Films)
Werner Herzog is a wonderfully unique documentarian, in part because he’s extremely gifted in the art of asking questions that are both compassionate and wincingly blunt. In “Happy People: A Year in the Taiga,” Herzog proves just as graceful at simply listening, providing interstitial narration for the viewer while letting professional trapper Gennady Soloviev speak for himself and stoically, gracefully take over the movie. “People” documents a year in the life of a Siberian wilderness village that’s accessible only by boat or helicopter, considers negative 33 degrees to be a “mild” winter day, and holds roughly 300 people whose way of life (need it be said) is markedly different than ours. At some point before long, though, this becomes Soloviev’s movie, and “People’s” view of the Taiga threads as much through his eyes as through the movie’s own. The view is partially obstructed as result — Soloviev spends considerable time with no one but his dogs, who arguably get second billing in this story — and there probably was a more democratic way to spread the storytelling around and get a wider picture of the entire village dynamic. Whether that would have made a better movie, though, is easily debatable, and that’s entirely a credit to Soloviev and the elegant way he parses his words and closes the bridge between his life and that of most who will see his story. There’s lots to learn about the Taiga by watching “People,” but the wisdom doesn’t end there by any stretch.
Extras: “Chasing Spring in West Siberia” documentary, Herzog introduction, Siberia fact sheet.

The Impossible (PG-13, 2012, Summit Entertainment)
It’s all right to feel anywhere from slightly to completely uneasy while watching “The Impossible” and still accepting that it arrives with the best of intentions. “The Impossible” is based on a true story, wherein the vacationing Maria (Naomi Watts), Henry (Ewan McGregor) and their three children are ravaged by a tsunami, separated in a foreign land, and potentially left for dead. That tsunami, as it happens, is the one that struck Indonesia the day after Christmas 2004 and killed more than 200,000 people. In a vacuum without context, “The Impossible” is a stirring, if occasionally stylistically overwrought, story about the attempt to overcome some fierce and terrifying odds. Peripherally, it’s a story about the kindness of the Thai people who came to the aid of vacationing strangers while their entire world was falling apart. But because “The Impossible” doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s a little striking just how peripheral that is, particularly when perhaps the most doted-on good deed of all goes to a fellow tourist who lends out his cell phone despite the battery running low. “The Impossible” never pretends to be the end-all, be-all story of the tsunami, so it’s unreasonable to completely judge it on that standard. The Belón family has as much right as anyone to tell their story (even if the actors playing them look nothing like them, their last name is inexplicably changed to Bennet and Henry’s name was actually Enrique), and “The Impossible” hits its intended target as gratifying entertainment with roots in truth. But even with all that said, it’s just a little strange — not unconscionable, not necessarily even wrong, just strange — to root a quintet of tourists onto safety while those who either didn’t survive or couldn’t leave are rendered mostly invisible.
Extras: Filmmakers/Maria Belón commentary, deleted scenes, two behind-the-scenes features.

Django Unchained (R, 2012, Weinstein Company/Anchor Bay)
At two hours and 45 minutes strong, “Django Unchained” — a spaghetti western of sorts about, for lack of spoiler-enabling specifics, a slave (Jamie Foxx), the bounty hunter (Christoph Waltz) who rebuilds him and the men (Leonardo DiCaprio and Samuel L. Jackson) standing between him and the woman (Kerry Washington) he loves — is unarguably long and perhaps needlessly so. With bullets and N-bombs flying with comparable abandon from nearly every mouth and gun that gets any screen time, it’s unquestionably fearless. And were such a cocktail left in the care of a tone-deaf bartender, the whole production might have amounted to a misguided, career-staining disaster. But Quentin Tarantino seems to understand the merits of getting taboo and farce to not simply cooperate, but conspire against everything we’re so sure we know so well. “Unchained” doesn’t simply engage in loaded imagery and language: It bathes in it with the bathroom door open, and it does so as much in the spirit of comedy as that of gravity. And yet, because of how much attention is lavished on the makeup of characters who often loom larger than life in spite of their grimy, gloomy backdrop, the effect of those words and images never feels like the point of it all. “Unchained” is unabashedly violent, but it only fleetingly is gratuitous with its display of violence, and it pins its language and imagery so tightly to its characters’ chests that they, rather than the movie as a whole, proudly own everything they say and do. The line between shocking and farcical is paper-thin, and through that line crashes a wildly exciting western that is at once simpler and more thoughtful than a momentary glance at that running time and sensational baggage would ever suggest.
Extras: Three behind-the-scenes features.

A Monster in Paris (PG, 2011/2012, Shout Factory)
It would require too many words to explain how and why, but there’s a monster — a gigantic flea, specifically — loose on the streets and in the skies of Paris. The residents are terrified, and an ambitious wannabe mayor has vowed to kill it. And the monster? Not only is he more docile than a house-trained puppy, but — as a beloved singer discovers after encountering him, fainting, screaming, fleeing and spying from the other side of an open window — he’s a surprisingly gifted musician. Again, the computer-animated “A Monster in Paris” explains all, and it’s best to let it do so, because the road from mystery to explanation is gridlocked with pleasant surprises. “Monster” isn’t spotless, particularly when it has to bring this odd story — of a would-be mayor, a singer, the delivery guy who adores her, his best friend, the girl he loves, a monkey and a flea named Francoeur — to a neat climax and conclusion. In a scramble to do so, “Monster” leans on formulaic action that ever so modestly dilutes the charm of all that precedes it. Fortunately, that aforementioned roster of characters provides so much charm that even a diluted solution is incredibly potent. “Monster’s” character and setting design are a grandiose but subtle shade of gorgeous, and those characters embody their visual personas brilliantly. Even in that imperfect last act, the film never tries too hard to be funny, crazy or cloying. It is funny, silly and incredibly sweet, but it gets there naturally, cleverly and seemingly effortlessly. If you never thought you could love a giant flea, you might be shocked just how easily and effectively this film makes it so. Worth noting: This version of “Monster” includes only the English voice track. It’s an excellent track, but if you want the original French audio as well, fair warning. No extras.

A Whisper to a Roar (NR, 2012, Virgil Films)
A feature film isn’t the best medium through which to present five instances around the world — Egypt, Ukraine, Venezuela, Malaysia and Zimbabwe — of oppressed citizens finally having enough and striking back against their governments. But as a primer or some kind of democracy-in-action starter pack, “A Whisper to a Roar” pretty much gets it perfectly right. “Roar” cycles periodically between countries as if to present five smaller three-act films at once, with each scenario getting a who’s who and what’s what before the film returns later to dig deeper and present each populace’s discontent in more personal detail. If that doesn’t sound dry on paper, it certainly sounds repetitive. But tedium never stands a chance against “Roar’s” storytelling approach, which mixes the empirical and personal so thoroughly as to make them one. These aren’t current events lessons so much as stories about what’s going on out there, and while “Roar” leaves most of the talking to others — there’s no narrator, only the occasional text blurb providing context — it takes special care to give faces to every name on both sides of authority. The real stories begin where this ends, because the best way to follow a revolution in 2013 is live and from the mouths and keyboards of those on the ground as things unfold. But for those who need a crash course first, “Roar” is as productive a 90-minute class as you’re likely to find.
Extra: Extended interviews.

Save the Date (R, 2012, IFC Films)
On paper, Sarah’s (Lizzy Caplan) life sounds potentially obnoxiousnly idyllic. Her sister (Alison Brie as Beth) is about to marry a seemingly good guy (Martin Starr as Andrew), and Sarah herself is gearing up to move in with Kevin (Geoffrey Arend), who also is Andrew’s bandmate and a seemingly good guy himself. Double dates for life, right? You bet, at least until Kevin impulsively attempts a public marriage proposal and the backfire is fierce enough to rattle way more than his nerve. Turns out, Sarah’s early quips about being a bit of a mess wasn’t just her self-depreciating sense of humor on display, and she isn’t the only one who needs a moment right now. So what’s “Save the Date’s” angle? It’s never so dour as to completely surrender the comedy tag, but it also seems conscious of the notion that a descent into romantic comedy formula would be as bad as or worse than a happiness death spiral that at least manages some honesty on the way down. The plain name suggests banality, but perhaps that’s self-conscious ironic banality? “Date” itself may not be completely sure, and that isn’t necessarily a knock. What sometimes feels like an adherence to feel-good formula turns quickly into a rejection of that very notion, but while “Date” sometimes wobbles during the course of these sharp turns, it stays on its feet with the consistent reminder that nobody in this likable but messy story has had it completely together at any point since the story began. It takes a special touch to end a movie on a note that feels transformative and square-one familiar at once, and “Date,” a well-crafted mess from start to finish, does that nicely.
Extras: Writer/director commentary, deleted scenes, outtakes, making-of mini comic, music video.

Sugartown (NR, 2011, Acorn Media)
Once upon a time in happier days, Sugartown was a bustling and aptly-named resort town renowned for its dance studios and candy confections. But those days are nearly fully gone, Jason’s (Shaun Dooley) candy factory is in danger of shutting down, and Jason’s brother Max (Tom Ellis) — who left Sugartown years ago in search of bigger and better things — has returned not to save the factory, but to exacerbate its shutdown so he can turn Sugartown over and rebuild it. As a bonus, Max has his eye on Jason’s now-fiancé Emily (Miranda Raison), which should surprise pretty much nobody once “Sugartown” offers a glimpse of all three characters and the broad, familiar strokes that place their personalities perfectly in line with their presentation. “Sugartown’s” roster of town residents runs the gamut of pedestrian and quirky. For better or worse, the show takes on the same quality, with extremely predictable story turns splitting shifts with a wacky dance number here and an unabashedly eccentric character or two there to give it some flavor. In the world of light entertainment, they rarely come lighter than this. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing for those seeking exactly that plus a few laughs, and “Sugartown” never does anything to completely grate on anybody’s nerve. But the tepid totality of its three one-hour episodes never much challenges or enthralls either, and the show’s eccentric and sincere halves never satisfactorily mesh into something that inspires any strong feelings about the town in the title.
Contents: Three episodes.

Planet Ocean (NR, 2012, Universal)
Hey, you tired yet of feeling completely powerless to save the oceans while yet another piece of media tells you how urgent it is that we correct our behavior and do so? Because “Planet Ocean” — which immediately dives, whole body first, into a declaration about the grave threat human industry and overpopulation pose to countless undersea species — is not. Following that opening salvo, “Ocean” pulls back and assumes position as the nature special one probably expects it to be, focusing particularly on the incredible social structure that allows so many diverse species to survive, thrive and even form alliances amongst one another. Between the stories and images, there is no shortage of means with which to inspire awe — and that remains the case once human beings crash the party a second time. Following a brief respite in which nature gets to be nature, “Ocean” weaves its opening statement and everything that followed into a single thread, with breathtaking images of the deep sea alongside comparably staggering images of gargantuan fishing operations and energy conglomerates that overwhelm the ocean’s inhabitants by the thousands and without discrimination. “Ocean’s” second assault offers no apologies to the weary, and where other films gingerly dabble in the matter of humanity’s threat to nature, this one just fires away — heart on sleeve, images of cargo containers stretching for miles in its holster, with magnificent visuals of whales dreaming and fish playing like children to inspire galvanization instead of ho-hum helplessness and a premature lunge for the stop button. So what to do? “Ocean” doesn’t exactly know, either, and its final-scene suggestions read like an admission that a film’s power stretches only so far. But if the best it can hope to do is provide the spark, it gives itself every chance to do so. For the weary and rested alike, the discomfort felt here is bound to stick long after memories of more mild-mannered specials have faded.
Extras: Three making-of features.

We Are Egypt (NR, 2012, Disinformation)
The 2011 Egyptian Revolution was an extraordinary revolt that captured imaginations worldwide, so it stands to reason that documentaries about that time would eventually follow. It also stands to reason that many who suddenly were consumed by the events of January 25 and thereafter didn’t know much of anything about Egypt’s situation on January 24. Fortunately, journalist and filmmaker Lillie Paquette was on hand and rolling camera a full 14 months before the dam broke. “We Are Egypt” documents an Egypt before the tide turned, with a populace feeling spurned not only by its own leadership, but also an American government and a charismatic president who made promises in 2009 but stalled in delivering on them in the months that followed. Government employee hands block Paquette’s camera, terrified underlings profess that they love Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak like a father, and in pockets off the main road, citizens who have had enough await the coming election while anticipating the moment when public discontent becomes too hostile to silence. As a primer, “Egypt” is handy, with Paquette explaining the situation’s whos, whats and whys while accompanying footage does its own talking. But as a prelude to a revolution, “Egypt” is extraordinary in its ability to lay bare the roots of that discontent in personal, intimate detail instead of simply discussing and alluding to it in retrospect. Somewhat ironically, Paquette leaves Egypt right as the final straw falls. But there’s a mountain of documentation about what happens after she leaves, and “Egypt” provides lasting value by sticking to the side of the story few others can convey on this level.
Extras: 11 additional short features and interviews.

Woochi the Demon Slayer (NR, 2009, Shout Factory)
Five centuries ago, a gifted but arrogant wizard named Jeon Woochi (Dong-won Kang) tripped over that arrogance and found himself accused of killing his master. Long story short — though not really, because “Woochi the Demon Slayer” devotes more than a third of its 136 minutes to it — he was accused, convicted and condemned, along with his dog, to live indefinitely inside a scroll. That leads us to now, where monsters from the past are descending on modern-day Seoul and the three Taoist wizards who sentenced him — now living peacefully and sort of goofily as retired regular guys — decide to bring Woochi back to stop them. The young wizard, having not really learned from his missteps, is just glad to be back until he runs into a girl who looks exactly like the girl he fell for 500 years ago but who has no idea who any of these people are. Woochi’s dog also turns into a person while frequently reminding anyone who will listen that he is a dog. There’s a lot of stuff swirling around the legend of Woochi, and if the film presented it with any self-seriousness at all, we’d likely have a mess on our hands. Fortunately, while “Woochi” takes its story seriously enough to pour all this detail into it, keeping it all straightened out is practically optional (encouraged, perhaps, but optional) in order to enjoy everything that happens. With respect to the legend, the real draw here are the lively characters, the sense of humor they inadvertently provide, and some wonderfully clever action that bounces between exciting, funny, fantastical, fish-out-of-water silly and — particularly during a wild and lengthy final sequence — all above the above at once. In Korean with English subtitles, but a slightly manic English dub is available as an option.
Extras: Deleted scenes, interviews, eight behind-the-scenes features.

Into the Cold (NR, 2011, Shelter Island)
It would take almost willful ignorance to be unaware in 2013 that there’s a high level of concern surrounding the rapid deterioration of the Arctic. But few of us have the means — to say nothing of the courage-slash-death wish — needed to see that deterioration up close. As Sebastian Copeland readily admits during the narration of his and Keith Heger’s attempt to do exactly that, there’s no effective way for their cameras to convey just how alarming things are at the North Pole, which, even with the rising temperatures, remains the arguable most dangerous place on Earth. Short of that, though, “Into the Cold” is a stunning document of a journey to a corner of the planet precious few of us will see any other way — a place that’s both magnificent and terrifying, and one that needs humanity’s help despite its ability to cripple and kill any human who ventures to do so up close. “Cold” doesn’t hide its message behind any curtains: Copeland is a self-described environmental advocate and isn’t making this journey for no reason. But “Cold” keeps its messaging reasonably in check, winding it up but mostly leaving it to intertwine inside the journey and the incredible images the pair capture of the Arctic. Given how thrilling that story and those images are, little else needs saying beyond what “Cold” says. No extras.

Hyde Park on the Hudson (R, 2012, Universal)
Without question, Abe Lincoln — both as Commander in Chief and as a vampire slayer — ran the dramatized-president-on-film table in 2012. But even Honest Abe’s parallel-universe vampire-hunting adventure has nothing on the bizarre energy emitting from “Hyde Park on the Hudson’s” portrayal of Franklin Delano Roosevelt (Bill Murray). “Hudson” opens on the brink of World War II, with FDR trying to drum up overseas support by inviting King George VI (Samuel West) and Queen Elizabeth (Olivia Colman) to stay at his country house. That stay — which marks the first-ever American visit by a reigning British monarch — is of peripheral importance to “Hudson,” which takes a slightly stronger interest in the affair FDR allegedly had with his sixth cousin Daisy (Laura Linney). Her diaries, discovered after her death, form the basis of the film, and for better or worse, it certainly feels that way. As entertainment, “Hudson” is a movie with moments, particularly when Murray is given a wide berth to take on FDR at his most charismatic. Daisy, despite or perhaps due to authoring this story, only fleetingly gets the same favor, while George and Elizabeth are mostly reduced to a bickering couple under which little solid ground forms. Not much solid ground forms anywhere, really, with “Hudson” tethered to two storylines that are at once too timid and too distracted to embody the significance of two renowned world leaders breaking bread while modern history’s most significant war looms immediately ahead. It takes a pair of monumentally shaky feet to make a major motion picture that hypothesizes about a popular president’s alleged affair and garner nearly no attention for doing so, and “Hudson,” likable though it sometimes is, is as unsure as they come.
Extras: Director/producer commentary, deleted scenes, two behind-the-scenes features.

Also
— “Howdy Kids! A Saturday Afternoon Roundup” (NR, Shout Factory): Provided the digital revolution doesn’t get here too quickly, Shout Factory could produce a monstrous gift set that truly recaptures the complete experience of watching Saturday afternoon westerns in the 1950s. If all you need is a taste, though, this 10-hour, 24-episode collection — which includes one or two episodes each from the likes of “The Lone Ranger,” “Red Ryder,” “Annie Oakley” and more — should suffice fine. No extras beyond the episodes.
— “Vietnam: The Ten Thousand Day War” (NR, 1981, Time Life): The 26-episode, 702-minute documentary series, a legitimate copy of which has been nearly impossible to find since its original DVD printing more than a decade ago, is easy to find once again. No extras.
— Cary Grant Film Collection (NR, Fox): It isn’t the first Cary Grant film collection, nor is it likely to be the last one. But for those keeping score, this one contains “Born To Be Bad,” “I Was a Male War Bride,” “People Will Talk,” “Monkey Business,” “An Affair to Remember” and “Kiss Them for Me.” No extras.

John Dies at the End (R, 2012, Magnet)
Some movies have that blink-and-it’s-gone moment you wish you immediately could see again just to reconcile what was seen with what actually happened, to say nothing of what it means. “John Dies at the End” is what happens when those moments arrive in force and encircle the entirety of the movie they create. Told mostly through the recollections of John’s friend Dave (Chase Williamson) as told to a journalist (Paul Giamatti), “End” is the story of a drug, called soy sauce (no relation to the condiment), that, for lack of a better concise description, is effectively sentient. It’s a wonder drug that takes rather than is taken, and those it doesn’t kill are given heightened senses that, again, defy concise description. “End’s” universe is so defiantly unique that the movie’s unfolding of it initially looks like nothing more than random insanity for the sake of it. Some of it certainly is that and nothing more. But there’s a thread running through the torrent of weirdness, and when that thread reveals itself in detail, it’s enough to make one wish “End” was just beginning instead of three-quarters over. Whether all that early insanity is the perfect buildup or a bunch of wasted time is the tip of “End’s” polarizing iceberg, which extends all the way down to whether the movie itself is genius, a disaster or just a wild ride that’s as fallible as it is fun. Just keep the remote handy: Theatergoers couldn’t stop time and review, but that luxury — along with the opportunity to just watch the whole thing a second time with completely new eyes — is now available, and there’s no shame in taking complete advantage. Rob Mayes stars as John. Does he die at the end? Figure that out yourself.
Extras: Williamson/Mayes/filmmakers commentary, deleted scenes, Giamatti interview, two behind-the-scenes features, casting sessions.

Knuckleball! (NR, 2012, FilmBuff)
Decades into its existence, the knuckleball remains baseball’s most misunderstood pitch. It’s a wonder tool that extends careers half-decades past their usual expectancy and gives athletically deficient pitchers the means to dominate the world’s best hitters with a pitch that wouldn’t exceed the speed limit on most expressways. But it’s also a dangerously fallible weapon, wherein the slightest delivery misstep produces a wild pitch, a batting practice lob destined for the bleachers or — baseball gods forbid — a broken fingernail that ruins an otherwise healthy knuckleballer’s delivery and knocks him out of the game. So rare is the pitcher who can master the temperamental pitch that when one appears, the fraternity of active and retired knuckleballers springs forth with a welcome wagon and support system like no other in professional sports. Set primarily across the 2011 season, “Knuckleball!” is a lively story about two pitchers — one, Tim Wakefield, a limp infielder-turned-Red Sox icon who is chasing his 200th win in his 20th season, and the other, R.A. Dickey, a quintessential journeyman who has finally secured steady Major League work years after others would have given up. It’s also a story about the history and art of the knuckler and the pitchers who made it famous before Wakefield and Dickey made it their last resort. But more enjoyable than anything is when “Knuckleball” shows the knuckleball cavalry coming together — Charlie Hough, Phil Niekro and even Wakefield, who technically is the opposition — to support Dickey as he struggles to keep the knuckleball’s flame burning while Wakefield contemplates his baseball mortality. Baseball is about nothing if not teamwork and tradition, but the torch-passing that happens here is something special nonetheless. (Worth noting: “Knuckleball” doesn’t extend into the 2012 season. If you somehow have an interest in this but don’t know what happened during that season, resist the urge to look it up beforehand.)
Extras: Two hours’ worth of additional/extended interviews and footage.

The Kick (PG-13, 2011, Lions Gate)
If ever there was a tae kwon do demonstration equivalent of the Partridge family, Moon (Cho Jae Hyun) and his family might be it. Unfortunately, with Moon still harboring disappointment over an Olympic defeat 20 years prior and taking it out on a son (Taejoo) who would rather be a dancer than the martial artist his father so badly wants him to be, things aren’t quite as cheerful here as they are with the Partridges. The familial angst purportedly is secondary to why we’re here: “The Kick’s” main storyline concerns a $30 million artifact, the high-flying thieves who attempt to steal it before the family thwarts them practically out of happenstance, and the act of retribution that sets up the family and thieves for a rematch. But that wrinkle itself serves better as an excuse for why we’re here than as the actual reason, because who cares about artifacts when we have a complete family unit of fighters that includes an adorable kid and a zoo’s worth of troublemaking animals? “The Kick’s” story is decent enough to set up some great action scenes, but it’s the family dynamic that makes the movie so much fun — and occasionally melodramatic because of that father/son subplot, but mostly just fun — and gives those action scenes the flavor they need to stand apart from the martial arts movie pack. In Korean with English subtitles, but a tolerable English dub is available as an option. No extras.

Stitches (R, 2012, Dark Sky Films)
According to clown lore as dreamt up by “Stiches,” no clown can rest in peace if he or she dies during a show that goes unfinished. Such is the fate of Stitches (Ross Noble), a rather scummy clown who meets his match at a birthday party crawling with extremely rotten kids whose bad behavior inadvertently and violently gets him killed. Six years later, that party’s now-teenaged birthday boy (Tommy Knight as Tom), despite being restlessly haunted by visions of killer clowns that exist only in his head, is throwing another, larger party. In attendance: every single participant from that birthday party — including Stitches, who has returned from the dead just in time to stumble into a stray invitation and do some party crashing. “Stitches” sets quite a precedent by showing its hand — gruesomely killing its namesake almost immediately, shedding buckets of blood in Tom’s visions just because — before the bad guy even gets a turn. That hand, turns out, is a combination of incredibly disgusting and slapstick that’s juvenile and borderline cheeky. And when Stitches finally gets his chance to play it, the movie bearing his name is cult horror of the finest kind — the kind where the line between laughing at what happened and recoiling in total squeamish horror may so thin as to not even exist. The special effects are laughably low-rent, but not so much that those lacking iron stomachs aren’t warned three times over to think twice about watching this one. (That goes double for those who already fear clowns. “Stitches” has a good time with violence, but it isn’t messing around when it comes to clown mythology.)
Extras: Noble/writer/director commentary, behind-the-scenes feature, bloopers.

Bob’s New Suit (NR, 2011, Breaking Glass Pictures)
Bob’s (Hunter Bodine) new suit isn’t just any suit. It’s his first suit, it’s the suit he plans to marry Jenny (Hayley DuMond) in, and it’s also — sometimes — the narrator of “Bob’s New Suit.” But lots of time passes between the moment Bob meets his suit and the moment he presumably would wear it, and during that time, our narrating suit just kind of disappears. “Suit” is a story about Bob and Jenny’s engagement, but it arguably is more a story about Bob’s sister Stephanie (Shay Astar), who announces her plans to change to Steve via gender reassignment therapy. It’s also a story about Bob’s dad (John Bennett Perry), who is hiding a secret that apparently is hot enough to trigger a miniature explanation of the Patriot Act, and Jenny’s mother (Robyn Peterson), who has a drinking problem and whom Jenny resents to a toxic degree. Exponentially more peripheral is the pointless story of cousin George (Charlie Babcock), who is selling plants he acquired under dubious circumstances. All this before “Suit” is even halfway wrapped, and yes, there’s more — and no, “Suit” doesn’t satisfactorily chew every bite it takes. Because most of the characters are likable and the movie clearly means well, the temptation’s there to go easy on the shortcomings — some awkward acting, the occasional stab at humor that falls flat, jarring detours into on-the-nose preaching — that regularly arise. But even then, it’s hard to ignore when storylines get stuck in first gear and those shortcomings pile up and get in their own way. What begins as a charming comedy — narrated by a suit, no less — gradually erodes into melodrama atop melodrama with no comic relief to balance it out, and good intentions alone can’t bail “Suit” out of its descent.
Extras: Interviews.

13 Eerie (NR, 2013, Entertainment One)
Six forensic students are trucked out to an island for a scientific expedition that will land one of them a trainee position with the FBI, and the scariest thing about “13 Eerie” is the notion that these are the six best candidates the bureau could round up. The island was once employed as a means to illegally use dangerous criminals as biological testing subjects, and when one of the cadavers provided by the program takes a breath and sits up, things go awry. Actually, they kind of don’t, because there’s nothing on “Eerie’s” island of terror that isn’t on loan from countless other horror movies that precede it. The students are chased one at a time. Everybody is unbelievably careless — doubly so given their implied intelligence — and nearly everyone is about as likable as the corpses that chase them. “Eerie” marches to the same old beat, and while it’s credibly gross and initially buoyed by the added grossness that accompanies forensic science even on a good day, it never remotely shakes its also-ran status (and, for that matter, doesn’t necessarily seem interested in doing so).
Extras: Director/producer commentary, four behind-the-scenes features, photo gallery.

Lincoln (PG-13, 2012, Dreamworks)
Passively, aggressively but mostly indirectly, “Lincoln” is a biography of Abraham Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis). More directly and fervently, it is a biography of the 13th Amendment, the battle over its inevitable passage, the mindsets of those who fought over it (Abraham Lincoln’s most prominently, perhaps, but not by much) and the politics as usual that — room layouts, gender imbalance and more daring tastes for fashion and unkempt hair aside — looks a lot like today’s politics as usual. It is no-nosense on paper and sometimes dry in practice, but also gamely capable of lurching on a dime into some wondrous fits of bad behavior, tantrums and furious speeches about how what happens or does not happen next will send the country into a moral tailspin. At its most furious, “Lincoln” is a thrilling drama that nonetheless is as capable of engineering sharply funny nastiness as any comedy that’s trying twice as hard to do so. Its ability to halt and resume that momentum while turning inward to better understand the final months of its namesake’s life is perhaps its best gift. But with that said, it merits mentioning that those final months are all “Lincoln” is, and that its democratic look at the constitutional amendment that crystallized his legacy makes this as much a movie about the likes of Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones, who arguably steals the movie) and Preston Blair (Hal Holbrook) as it is Lincoln. (Insert a joke here about how “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter,” which takes on Lincoln’s entire life, out-biopics “Lincoln,” but there’s more truth to that joke than you might expect.) Sally Field, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, James Spader and Walton Goggins, among others, also star.
Extras: Six behind-the-scenes features.

Veep: The Complete First Season (NR, 2012, HBO)
Set amid the run-up to the Iraq War, the unbelievably funny “In The Loop” was perhaps the best parallel-universe movie ever made about a real war, because it brilliantly and horrifyingly reduced its superstar team of politicians, generals and other high-ranking world leaders to the playpen of petulant children many of us suspect they are when the cameras and pretense fall away. “Veep,” from some of the same folks who created “Loop” and its television semi-prequel “The Thick of It,” uses its longer runtime leash to zoom in a little closer, with the first season focusing primarily on Vice President Selina Meyer’s (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) attempt to keep her foot away from her mouth while assembling a clean jobs commission that somehow caters simultaneously to those who want clean jobs and those who don’t seem like they would but want a seat at the table anyway. (Lobbyists, like children, just like to be included.) If that sounds like a drag, good news: Selina and her equally foot-mouthed staff (Anna Chlumsky, Tony Hale, Matt Walsh and Sufe Bradshaw, among others) completely agree, and they have some sharply funny ways of letting everybody know. “Veep” is a show set around politics, but it’s a show about politics for people who hate what typically constitutes a show about politics. It doesn’t take sides or focus on one ideology over the other, because why bother when it’s way more fun to set the entire system on fire with a big, profane, brilliantly nasty torch that takes zero prisoners and delivers some of the funniest lines available on television right now?
Contents: Eight episodes, plus 12 commentary tracks (not a typo; some episodes have multiple tracks), deleted scenes/outtakes, a behind-the-scenes feature, a PSA from Meyer about obesity and a clarification from Meyer about one of her foot-in-mouth episodes.

GLOW: The Story of The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (NR, 2012, Docurama)
By all accounts, the ascent of The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling was a 10-car pileup of mostly happy accidents. The wrestlers had no idea they were trying out for a wrestling show at all when they arrived for auditions, and only after trainer Mondo Guerrero put one of them in a painful submission hold did they understand the whole thing wasn’t a joke. The show runners allegedly designed GLOW mostly as a vehicle for selling other products during commercial breaks rather than as a show meant to flourish on its own. And if the numerous testimonies that comprise “GLOW” hold any weight — and they do, considering how many former stars show up —seemingly no one envisioned GLOW catching fire at all, much less attracting a national following and turning its wrestlers into superstars and role models. The story of what actually happened practically sells itself, and “GLOW” doesn’t argue, providing a ton of funny, endearing and sometimes harrowing footage while leaving the ladies to run a similar emotional gamut through their recollections of the strangest, hardest, most painful and most thrilling days of their lives as sports entertainment pioneers. Purely as a piece of history, it’s a ton of fun. But “GLOW’s” larger legacy, as a story about people taking risks and forming lifelong friendships over a groundbreaking idea they never would have imagined making happen until it was happening, is a thrill that transcends wrestling and makes an interest in the sport a completely optional pre-requisite.
Extras: Billy Corgan commentary, deleted scenes, extended interviews, GLOW skits/raps compilation, matches and behind-the-scenes footage, United Film Festival Q&A.

Dead in France (NR, 2012, Breaking Glass Pictures)
Charles (Brian A. Levine), like most fictitious middle-aged hit men who head up their own movie, is ready to hang it up, go legit and live out the rest of his days peacefully. But as always happens to people like Charles, pretty much everyone else — from a trio of unseasoned thieves to an old rival (Kate Loustau) to a conniving cleaning lady (Celia Muir) and her completely unhinged boyfriend (Darren Bransford) — seems bent on making this impossible. “Dead in France” is full of characters, with only Charles playing it straight as the mild-mannered, earnest retiree-in-training who finds the prospect of asking a girl out scarier than anything involved in the suddenly-violent pursuit of peace and quiet. But thank goodness for Charles, because this is a movie that absolutely needs him. “France” is a disciple of the Guy Ritchie school of filmmaking, wherein the soundtrack is as gratuitous as the violence and sociopaths of all kinds swerve between raging insanity and completely irreconcilable emotional detachment. The action occasionally plays out with what must be intentional shoddiness before applying extreme care to some brutal act of violence, and the whole thing is presented in black and white seemingly just because. Without Charles, “France” would be a division by zero error in which people act groundlessly crazy for 97 minutes to seemingly no end. It still mostly is, but by giving us just one extremely likable character with motives, brainpower and two feet on the ground, it gives us a rooting interest that makes the surrounding insanity much easier to (mostly) laugh off. (Shame about the final twist, though.)
Extras: Deleted scenes, bloopers, photo gallery.

Killing them Softly (R, 2012, Anchor Bay)
If you ever stumble into a book titled “Deep Movies for Dummies,” don’t be surprised if all that’s inside is a shooting script for “Killing Them Softly,” a movie that caters to a crowd for which it seemingly has zero respect. For what it’s worth, it is possible to separate “Softly” from its pretense. Moreover, doing so leaves behind an uncomfortably fun little story about an arrogant mobster (Ray Liotta) who scams his own people before owning up to it without penalty, the small-time crooks (Ben Mendelsohn, Scoot McNairy) who try to reenact the heist and pin it on him, and the mob enforcer (Brad Pitt) brought in to clean up the mess and “convict” those he deems responsible for the heist. Purely in terms of the chase, “Softly” is a harsh ride through the bowels of cynicism that excels on a penchant for taking an ugly story and making it surprisingly personal for nearly every character involved. But “Softly” also doesn’t trust its fiction alone to do the talking, nor does it seem to trust viewers to grasp the concept of national cynicism wearing even organized crime down to a tired, miserable slog. So at regular intervals, speeches — first from George W. Bush during the 2008 financial collapse, and eventually from Barack Obama on election night — play loudly and with distracting clarity on televisions and radios in the background. “Softly” very obviously wants to ensure no one misses the allegory it’s positing, and just in case the message isn’t beaten in by film’s end, it takes a mallet and wails away with a final-scene speech that’s so hammer-on-nail literal as to almost — were it not kind of insulting — be funny. James Gandolfini and Richard Jenkins also star.
Extras: Deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes feature.

The Comedy (NR, 2012, Tribeca Film)
Swanson (Tim Heidecker) is a thoroughly worthless 35-year-old who is just killing time until he inherits his dad’s wealth, at which point he’ll just kill more time until he himself dies. In the meantime, he’s growing restless. And out of his boredom and lack of any adversity whatsoever comes a need to act out and push his restlessness on people until someone finally shoves him back. Unfortunately, with friends (Eric Wareheim, James Murphy) working alongside him to make others uncomfortable and generally act awful to people who don’t deserve it, Swanson isn’t really taking the hard road here, either. “The Comedy” increasingly is not a comedy, and that of course is the point, but it dulls the edge of whatever point it’s trying to make by insulating Swanson inside what basically amounts to a small gang of privileged hipster losers who eschew even trace attempts at sympathy. To its credit, “The Comedy” dangles Swanson out there without explaining him or even making it 100 percent clear that what it presumably is doing is what it intends to do. Protected though he is in his world, Swanson has no such luxury in ours, and his ability to make viewers squirm — both intentionally and completely otherwise — is effective fodder for a discussion about irony, snark, and the weird comfort people seem to find in their own constant disaffection. Maybe that’s the point. Or maybe “The Comedy” is just an abjectly lousy movie courtesy of people who, like Swanson, think there’s value in what effectively is self-indulgence and nothing more. Perhaps it begs as much to be misunderstood by the many as it does to be cherished by the few who herald it as ingenious. When the question is this vague, there are no wrong answers.
Extras: Heidecker/director commentary, deleted scenes.

Also
— “Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot: The Complete Series” (NR, 1967, Shout Factory): The beloved Japanese import, about a boy and the giant robot he controls in the fight against monsters bent on destroying Earth, finally gets a legitimate DVD release. Includes all 26 episodes, plus a 24-page booklet with liner notes and an episode guide.
— “Lego Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Out” (NR, 2012, Fox): Between “Family Guy,” “Robot Chicken” and the entirety of the Internet, the cup of funny “Star Wars” parodies seems to have no bottom. With “The Padawan Menace” and now “The Empire Strikes Out,” the Lego brand fully belongs in the team photo — primarily because these send-ups are funny as well, but also because they’re the rare all-ages “Star Wars” parody that winks at kids and adults with equal success. Like its predecessor, “Empire” is short at 22 minutes long, but its high energy packs a ton of gags — too many to catch in a single viewing — in that small space. A special Darth Vader minifigure — adorned with his “Employee of the Month” medal, which is a reference to the feature — is bundled with the DVD.

Zero Dark Thirty (R, 2012, Sony Pictures)
There was, upon its theatrical release, a whole lot of chatter about “Zero Dark Thirty’s” audacity — to release during the month before Election Day, to tacitly promote torture, to possibly gain access to off-limits intelligence in exchange for a two-hour commercial about the first (and, at the time, potentially only) Obama Administration’s shining bipartisan moment. But it’s all noise, because “Thirty’s” real audacity comes via its complete (and completely appropriate) refusal to walk on either side of any of these avenues while retelling a decade-long story that — in its own opening words, as real emergency dispatch audio from Sept. 11 plays underneath — came entirely from firsthand accounts. Tunnel-vision dedication to those accounts comes with a cost: With so much ground to cover and no sides to take, “Thirty” often plays dry and, yes, leaves itself susceptible to accusations of covert bias that are unfounded and unfair. Can you imagine a film that purports to be a document but stops to pander and editorialize? It would be deservedly eaten alive. “Thirty” takes its lumps, but its resilience in staying on point and shunning politics makes it inedible. (Politicians are notably left on the shelf, with even Obama referred to only in passing and only as “the President.”) “Thirty’s” sole focus is on the mission and the obsessive woman (Jessica Chastain as “Maya,” whose real identity remains classified) who wouldn’t surrender her pursuit of Osama bin Laden until she knew he was dead. For all the dramatic sacrifices it arguably makes, its final 45 minutes are edge-of-seat intense. Considering history spoiled the ending two years ago, that’s no easy feat. Jason Clarke, Joel Edgerton, Chris Pratt and Kyle Chandler also star.
Extras: Four behind-the-scenes features.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (PG-13, 2012, New Line)
Were “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” a highway exit, there would be a sign two miles out proclaiming, “Non-Tolkien Fanatics, Merge Left.” Then, a half-mile away, another sign, in bright construction orange: “No, Seriously.” “Journey” is Peter Jackson’s dramatization of “The Hobbit” — except when isn’t, because the book is 320 pages long and this 169-minute movie is the first of a staggering three that will bring it to life. (The three books that comprised the three “The Lord of the Rings” movies, by contrast, combined for 1,216 pages.) To say there’s time to fill is an understatement that could win an Oscar if they awarded statues for understatements, and “Journey” fills that time with equal parts creative liberty, stalling and artistic self-indulgence that feels like stalling. In frequently regaling legends of Middle Earth gone by, it occasionally feels like a clip show for a series that never existed instead of the origins of the journey that made Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) a legend. Academically, “Journey” is a film in need of an editor. Cynically, it’s a cash grab by a studio that knows the money for three movies instead of one is there for the taking. But if you love Middle Earth to no end, does it even matter? Self-indulgent though it absolutely is, “Journey” also is a feast — for the eyes, of course, but also for the ears. Necessary or not, the languid pace allows for some fun short stories, lots of scene-chewing time for numerous beloved characters, and even a considerable (if not always resilient) sense of humor. With this trilogy, fans get a second chance at an extended stay in Jackson’s vision of Middle Earth. It may exist in this form for monetary more than artistic reasons, and it almost certainly won’t measure up to the first trilogy, but as long as the people it’s for are having fun, it doesn’t really matter.
Extras: “New Zealand: Home of Middle Earth” feature, 15-part behind-the-scenes video blogs compilation.

Les Misérables (PG-13, 2012, Universal)
Really, what insight isn’t already on the table regarding 2012′s most unreviewable movie? Debatably, at least on an aesthetic level, “Les Misérables” is different. It’s a product of the times, insofar that — at least during its hungrier first half — it isn’t afraid to let the camera shake and zoom in jarringly close while following a single character while he (Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Eddie Redmayne, Sacha Baron Cohen) or she (Amanda Seyfried, Anne Hathaway, Samantha Barks) sings in the second person as if singing exclusively to you. The up-close-and-personal approach is “Misérables’” stylistic calling card, and it’s a choice some will hate for frequently obscuring the lavish scenery as much as others will love it for conveying intimacy and subtlety in a way a movie can and a stage production cannot. (For the former, sit tight: As the scope of the story expands from personal to national, so does the film’s acceptance that wide shots have their place as well.) Ultimately, though, “Les Misérables” the movie is creatively attached at the waist to “Les Misérables” the musical, and devotedly so. The music remains powerful, the acting overdone to accommodate the grandiosity of the production on the whole, and even with 158 minutes to work with, “Misérables” has to scramble to contain the entire story inside its credit scrolls. It’s faithful to a fault, but it’s a lively, gorgeous and sonically loaded show as result — exactly the kind of movie that will change no one’s mind about the need for movies based on stage shows. If you love them, this one’s a can’t-miss. If you can’t stand them, it’s a non-starter.
Extras: Director commentary, seven behind-the-scenes features.

Price Check (NR, 2012, IFC Films)
We’ve all met someone like Susan (Parker Posey), who has swooped in from outside and replaced a popular outgoing executive near the top of the Wolski’s supermarket chain corporate ladder. Many of us have worked for or with someone like her. And as result, many of us instantly recognize that what makes Susan kind of scary to be around isn’t the fact that she’s a tyrant or a soulless cost-cutter, but rather because she’s monstrously insecure, dangerously unfiltered and can transition on a dime from overzealous rah rah-ing to a tantrum that would embarrass a first grader. That’s a problem for all of Susan’s new employees, but it’s especially concerning for Pete (Eric Mabius) — not because she’s out to get him, but because he’s instantly her favorite despite having no apparent enthusiasm for his own floundering career. “Price Check” is full of contradictions that aren’t actually contradictions at all, because they’re grounded in a reality that movies about corporate life rarely entertain. Sometimes it’s better to be paid and ignored than admired and overworked, and sometimes well-paid bosses can’t decide whether they love their job, hate their job, love their life or just hate themselves. “Check” is a dry comedy that sometimes feels like a farce, but that’s merely a credit to Posey absolutely nailing a character who is very much real. Most of us have dealt with a Susan and can confirm they exist. They’re charismatic, slightly terrifying and capable of taking people places no one wants to go even when they themselves have no idea where they’re going. When they all get there and that realization sinks in, the line between authenticity and darkly, farcically funny horror show just fades into nothing.
Extra: Commentary.

This is 40 (NR/R, 2012, Universal)
Judd Apatow wrote, directed and co-produced “This is 40.” So why does it feel like a comedy that was assembled by two filmmakers who never once spoke during the process of putting it together? “40′s” topic is no more nuanced than the title suggests it is, with husband Pete (Paul Rudd) and wife Debbie (Leslie Mann) — secondary characters in “Knocked Up,” now getting top billing — turning 40 and dealing with the joys of parenthood, fading dreams, debt and total romantic stagnation. To the movie’s credit, it sometimes mines that mundanity for some seriously funny bits, and occasionally with a frequency that makes you forget the dreary predictability of the premise’s early going. But then, as if “40″ itself forgot them as well, it returns to them for some plot turns that are absolute drags. Pete’s and Debbie’s two kids (Maude Apatow as teenager Sadie, Iris Apatow as the younger Charlotte) are comedic gold mines and arguably the funniest and best-realized characters in the whole movie. But the brilliant writing that brings them alive exists within the same script that slowly takes the main storyline exactly where you know it’s going, with some weird stops at product placement (so overt as to be funny), stunt casting (not so much) and angst to spare along the way. “40″ swims more than it sinks, if only because its funniest moments are much funnier than its boring drags are miserable. But the dry patches are still pronounced enough to make one wonder what might’ve happened if it felt less obligated to sleepwalk through the storytelling motions and decided to just be funny instead.
Extras: Unrated cut (adds three minutes), Apatow commentary, deleted/extended/alternate scenes and outtakes, behind-the-scenes feature, an episode of NPR’s “Fresh Air with Terry Gross” featuring Apatow, line-o-rama, bloopers.

Bachelorette (R, 2012, Anchor Bay)
Catharsis is the ultimate tease in “Bachelorette,” which begins with Becky (Rebel Wilson) telling old friend Regan (Kirsten Dunst) she’s engaged right as Regan dips her toe into a speech about why she may want to dump the guy she’s now set to marry. That never really goes anywhere, and soon after, Gena (Lizzy Caplan) and Katie (Isla Fisher) join Regan to help plan Becky’s bachelorette party, which inadvertently turns into a race to fix the wedding dress they secretly accidentally ruin on the eve of the wedding. Along the way, “Bachelorette” continually flirts with the idea of being something more than a screwy comedy about three girls with broken personal lives racing to fix a dress. There are painful revisits to the past, painful acceptances that what once was funny and cute isn’t working anymore, and painful failures to understand why doing everything the “right” way can still feel so unfulfilling. Deep, right? Problem is, every time “Bachelorette” seems primed to embrace its demons and weave darkness and comedy into a big, wild popping off of bottled angst, it hedges the bet and just turns back inward before carrying on as a somewhat funny but mostly unremarkable screwball comedy. That’ll certainly do as a light good time, but given how badly “Bachelorette” so obviously wants to break through into something way more dangerous than that, it’s a shame it didn’t close its eyes and just bolt for it.
Extras: Writer/director commentary, behind-the-scenes feature, bloopers.