Beautifully put together in just about every way, it will be potent stuff on the small screen but deserves its moment in theaters.

Following the template of documentaries bent on scaring viewers silly, Oasis winds up with a segment pointing to glimmers of hope, one of which addresses the marketing challenge of convincing citizens that recycled waste water is safe for drinking.

A sustained balancing act between dry upper-crust cynicism and pent-up passions, Donald Rice's Cheerful Weather for the Wedding maintains its uneasy stasis long enough to frustrate some romance-hungry viewers while tantalizing those for whom withheld pleasure is the whole point.

Viewers will suspect from early on that things aren't as straightforward as they appear, and Clark's screenplay addresses those suspicions only to the extent it must to justify its characters' behavior.

Robot & Frank reminds quirk-hardened veterans that an odd premise and big heart don't have to add up to too-precious awards bait.

Portrait of Wally may be too narrowly focused for some viewers, but offers an engaging narrative and high-profile subject that should attract audiences at fests and in specialized theatrical bookings.

Its high-octane but low-stakes action might be just the thing for moviegoers weary of summer's operatic superheroes.

An eye-opener about what it's like to live with a variety of mental illnesses, including obsessive-compulsive disorder -- and, however tenuously, to recover from them.

Redlegs marks the promising directorial debut of film critic Brandon Harris.

It's easy to imagine exhibitors running scared from the documentary, but audiences who find it will be rewarded with a serious and provocative film.

Inevitable or not, it's fun watching two middle-aged lunkheads reverting to adolescent competitiveness, and the fun is compounded by secrecy.

Though the film sets out only to chronicle the group's life, not the history of the disease, some viewers will wish for a parting message making sense of where things stand today, with the disease mostly vanished from headlines but still destroying lives around the world.

A lovable underachiever unwittingly spawns his own village in Starbuck, Ken Scott's crowd-pleasing comedy exploring various meanings of fatherhood in the modern age.

The premise, and the hijinks that follow, are about as outrageous as anything in today's crop of raunchy comedies. But Nørgaard offers them with a much drier wit than Hollywood typically delivers.

Anne Émond's quietly raw Nuit #1 begins as a highbrow sex film but quickly becomes something much more interesting.

Jones is great in the part, even if this movie doesn't quite prove she should be carrying films on her own, and the actress makes her character's clumsy heartache feel like more than a plot point.

A stunt-documentary whose conceit overlaps with the finding-yourself appeal of a road movie, Joseph Garner's Craigslist Joe is humbly charming.

Burning Man takes its time getting us to feel for a troubled character but gets the hook in solidly once it decides to.

A solid primer that augments exposition with a powerful sensual streak, Mark Hall's Sushi: The Global Catch aims to be a comprehensive look at the raw-fish phenomenon.

Well conceived and unmanipulative, it will play well with auds attuned to its social-justice themes.

Warm-hearted and entertaining, if more sad than its quirky premise suggests.

A too-rare instance in which a gifted young actor signs on for a fright flick without coming away tainted, The Awakening places Rebecca Hall in a convincing historical setting and gives her more to do than widen her eyes in fear.

The topic's appeal is broad, but Whitehair's tight focus on one activist family keeps this film from being the one to reach an audience beyond those already involved in the issue.

Adoptees themselves almost certainly will find Somewhere Between an empowering reminder that tens of thousands of kids have walked this path before.

A documentary so stuffed with eye-soothing images one prays it can seduce a climate-change skeptic or two.

The doc has little to say about the Michelin ranking system that hasn't been said, but offers enough behind-the-scenes interest to entertain foodies and inspire a few additions to their dining-experience bucket lists.

Alternates languidly between wistful nostalgia and a more clear-eyed assessment of its protagonist's choices.

An engrossing two-hander combining the smart-talk microcosm of "My Dinner With Andre" and the sexual dynamics of a Philip Roth novel, David Trueba's Madrid, 1987 is more universal than its title suggests and holds a strong art house appeal.