A WALK IN THE WOODS

Based on a widely adored nonfiction from 1998, A Walk in the Woods finds Robert Redford's Bill Bryson (the book's author) and Nick Nolte's Stephen Katz embarking on a months-long trek along the Appalachian Trail, and from his first moments here, you fear for the latter's health. By which I mean you fear for Nolte's health. Because based on the 74-year-old's initial appearance - hauling his substantial frame out of an airplane seemingly half his size, his face nearly purple from the effort - and that strained, gravelly baritone that sounds like heavy rocks in a wood chipper, Nolte doesn't appear at all capable of surviving this particular Walk. (It should go without saying that even though he's finally starting to look his age, you don't feel similar trepidation for 79-year-old Redford, given that his voice and hair - or "hair" - still suggest a man in his late 30s.)

THE END OF THE TOUR

An interviewer for Rolling Stone travels to Bloomington, Illinois, to meet his subject: an author embarking on the last leg of his book tour. They make small talk at the author's house. They smoke incessantly. They gorge on junk food. They travel to Minnesota for a reading and radio segment. They visit the Mall of America. They catch a multiplex movie. They hang out with a couple of young women. They consume more junk food. They return to Bloomington. They part ways.

In broad outline, that is the entire plot of director James Ponsoldt's and screenwriter Donald Margulies' The End of the Tour. And with the possible exception of Mad Max: Fury Road, no other 2015 release, to date, has entertained, thrilled, and devastated me quite as much as this one. (The film is currently playing at Iowa City's Marcus Sycamore Cinema.) I'll concede that much of the reason for my enjoyment might be strictly personal, or at least intensely specific. But I also don't think anyone needs to have been an interviewer, or an interviewee, to be dazzled by the film's intelligence, emotional complexity, and deep empathy, or by the insight it demonstrates regarding the oddly fraught practice of the celebrity profile. You probably also don't need to be an admirer of David Foster Wallace to find yourself frequently moved to tears, but if you are one, consider yourself warned.

STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON

In the N.W.A. bio-pic Straight Outta Compton, long after the professional and personal flame-outs between Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell) and Ice Cube (O'Shea Jackson Jr., playing his real-life father), the two rappers run into each other at a club, and Eazy, seeking reconciliation, tells Cube he saw him in Boyz n the Hood. Cube reminds his former friend that Eazy publicly called the movie "an after-school special," and Eazy, knowing he's caught, simply grins and says, "Man, you know I like after-school specials." (As it must, this initially tense encounter ends in a hug.) Given the film's expectedly harsh language, constant threats of violence, and poolisde and hotel-room debaucheries that only platinum-selling albums can buy, I was amazed to find its own resemblence to an after-school special the most surprising thing about director F. Gary Gray's musical drama. But whatever - I, too, like after-school specials.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION

Before a recent screening, I saw one of those previews in which a Hollywood star welcomes you to your local Cinemark chain, and as soon as that star said, "Hi, I'm Tom Cruise," a woman in the front row let out a loud, seemingly involuntary "Yech." The preview, of course, was for Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation, and perhaps the best solace I can offer that woman is that while I frequently find Crusie yech-y, too, the movie itself is a lot of fun. It's even more fun if you can forget that Cruise is starring in it. But, y'know ... good luck with that.