“An Education” is a sharply crafted ode to the loss of innocence, boasting top-shelf performances and evocative cinematography. It’s also material about two tantrums and a “Gossip Girl” cast member away from becoming a Lifetime Original event, making the nuanced accomplishments of the feature shine all the more brightly. It’s a wildly predictable film of extreme formula, but there’s a special effort made to confront that numbing familiarity, showcasing a mature, level-headed take on a frightening coming-of-age journey.

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The title is not “This Is It,” as in the hottest ticket in town. It’s more “This Is It,” admitting a scarcity of content. Marketed as the final goodbye to the self-proclaimed “King of Pop,” this hastily assembled performance film seems less like a eulogy and more like a chance to cover the losses incurred when Jackson died during rehearsals for his pricey comeback tour. The stank of opportunism is all over this baby, and while I wouldn’t begrudge the average superfan their chance to publicly mourn, “This Is It” takes Jackson’s musical legacy and squeezes it for every last remaining nickel.

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Oh, what a bizarre film “Stunt Rock” is, but its oddity is a gift. More of a bruising cinematic experience than a narrative-driven feature film, “Stunt Rock” is the 1970s packaged up to near perfection, combing the hurricane forces of daredevil filmmaking and shtick-laden heavy metal. Brian Trenchard-Smith’s masterpiece of stackable-amp cinema is such a carefree, tinted-shades delight, it’s nearly impossible to convey its widescreen enthusiasm on the page. It’s a shapeless experience, but an exceptional ride that offers thrills, grins, and an impressive argument for the supremacy of Australian cinema during the 1970s.

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When “Hardware” slipped into theaters in the autumn of 1990, I was much too young to see it, unable to properly grasp its European cinema homages and suffocating future shock textures. I simply hated the thing, tremendously disturbed by its brutal imagery and salacious appetite for perversity. Fortunately, I wasn’t unable to flush the feature out of my system. With time and maturity, I grew to value Richard Stanley’s feature as a fierce, enthralling depiction of utter ecological and social anguish. “Hardware” slowly became a personal favorite, and nearly 20 years later, it’s finally arrived on a format that permits clarity to the fine details and piercing discomfort Stanley busted his hump to produce.

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There’s a power of mimicry and lavish flight photography that keeps the bio-pic “Amelia” in the air. This is not a strong motion picture, nor a particularly informative one. Instead, it’s a finely polished soap opera from a wonderful director starring fantastic actors, and nobody can quite connect the ambition of the piece with the execution. Moments of midair ecstasy hold it together and without those peaceful pauses of expression, “Amelia” is simply mawkish entertainment, stable and worthwhile for the average moviegoer, but it never finds a comfortable altitude.

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The projectionist could’ve run this film backwards, and I don’t think I would’ve noticed. “Cirque du Freak: The Vampire’s Assistant” is a Hollywood attempt to massage author Darren Shan’s 12-part saga of vampires and teenagers into a viable, cash-cow franchise. Spanning the first three novels, “Assistant” doesn’t tell a story as much as it hurls everything that isn’t nailed down against the wall to see what sticks. Labored and often tedious, the picture is a friendly stab at Burtonesque macabre antics, but director Paul Weitz is in way over his head trying to juggle huge portions of the grotesque and the epic.

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What would the world be like without horror remakes? Probably a happier place.

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338 words. That’s all author Maurice Sendak employed over 33 pages to create a literary classic of childhood imagination. 338 words. An amazing feat and one that doesn’t lend itself easily to a feature-length film adaptation. Director Spike Jonze has a wealth of intention and imagination for his 95-minute embellishment of Sendak’s work, but fantasyland jubilation is an element oddly pinched out of this sulking haze of monsters and tantrums. A visual knockout, “Where the Wild Things Are” is cold to the touch, trying to surf confidently on rolling waves of childhood nostalgia and teary poignancy, but remains improperly balanced to handle the bizarrely leaden execution.

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The thriller “Law Abiding Citizen” has the stink of a great exploitation experience all over it. Sections of the film demand audience interaction — the popcorn-throwing kind that greets cruel turns of fate or broad displays of injustice. When “Citizen” stays in that pocket of unsophisticated manipulation, it puts forth terrific genre energy guaranteed to get the adrenaline racing. However, leave it to the filmmakers to get in the way of a decent film, trying to outwit an audience that just might prefer the simplest ride available.

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There’s a scale of weirdness to any film made by the Coen Brothers, and “A Serious Man” hits the red zone of idiosyncrasy immediately. An ode to Midwestern Judaism and the havoc of guilt, “Serious Man” is a tapestry of neuroses and personal damage, given a classic black comic strangling by the Coens, who leave no domestic discomfort behind. In fact, all this film contains is unease, making it a perfect itchy sweater film for those who enjoy their cinema on the suffocating side.

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