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David Crosby: Remember My Name, directed by A.J. Eaton

(R, 1 hour, 35 minutes) This is a music documentary that feels like a therapy session for its 78-year-old subject, a man who comes across as prickly but determinedly intelligent and selfaware, with motives that have often been obscure to himself as well as others.

These days he resembles nothing so much as Guitar Center’s oldest shop assistant. There’s an avuncular air about him as he tells his life story, which follows the contours of a lot of rock ’n’ roll

survivor stories.

His first mega-successful band The Byrds blew up largely because of his ego and excesses. In his 20s, Crosby strutted around in a Russian fur hat and spewed conspiracy theories about the JFK assassination.

In a Laurel Canyon kitchen, he found that singing with Graham Nash and Stephen Stills was strong medicine. Legend has it that it took 40 seconds for CSN to come together (and nearly 50 years to fall apart). When Neil Young petitioned to join the band and auditioned for Crosby in the latter’s driveway, Crosby deigned to let him in. They were the biggest thing for a while in the early 1970s after Woodstock. Until they weren’t.

Crosby is a surprisingly droll storyteller; candid and free of self-pity. He wonders how he is still alive. Prison probably saved his life in the ’80s, when he was better known for abusing substances than making music.

And for the past couple of decades, he has consistently produced interesting music that few people pay attention to. So in order to try to hold everything together, he’s forced to go out on the road and play his old songs in tertiary markets.

He seems to be happy to perform for crowds that tolerate his new jazzier work while waiting for him to sing “Guinevere” or “Almost Cut My Hair.”

It’s disarming how he takes responsibility for whatever has gone wrong with his life. Crosby understands the end is near and that he is bound to leave behind fractured relationships and financial messiness. He’s trying to fix it, but there’s just not enough time. Miss Virginia (not rated, 1 hour, 42 minutes) Strong characters, sincere performances, tense situations and inspiring moments mark this narrative about a struggling Washington mother (Uzo Aduba) who, desperate to get her son James (Niles Fitch) out of a poorly performing school, launches a movement to give the boy and others like him a chance for a good education. Inspired by a true story. With Matthew Modine, April Grace, Vanessa Williams; directed by Toronto-born, Arkansas-raised R. J. Daniel Hanna.

Strange But True (PG-13, 1 hour, 36 minutes) This weirdly plotted and illogical family thriller, which gets points for a first-rate cast that helps legitimize the story, gets rolling when a 20-something woman surprises the family of her deceased boyfriend, who died in a car wreck five years previously, by telling them she’s pregnant with his child. With Margaret Qualley, Mena Massoud, Greg Kinnear, Brian Cox, Blythe Danner, Amy Ryan; directed by Rowan Athale. The Lion King (PG, 1 hour, 58 minutes) Handsomely animated with little else to offer, this bland remake’s got nothing on the much-loved 1994 original. Young Simba is again the focus, assuming control of the kingdom after the murder of his father King Mufasa. It’s a move that’s hardly celebrated by all of his subjects, with predictable uproar. With the voices of Donald Glover, Chiwetel Ejiofor, James Earl Jones, Seth Rogen, Alfre Woodard, John Oliver, Beyoncé; directed by Jon Favreau.

Tone-Deaf (R, 1 hour, 27 minutes) Culture and political differences lead to a curious and often diverting horror adventure in this story of a millennial on the skids who, having lost her job and her latest relationship, decides to regroup by renting a country house from a baby-boomer widower, who struggles — none too successfully — to hide his psychopathic tendencies. With Amanda Crew, Robert Patrick; written and directed by Richard Bates Jr. She’s Just a Shadow (not rated, 1 hour, 58 minutes) Good luck at figuring out — and caring about — what’s going on here in a gory, misogynistic and ill-tempered bloodfest with a matriarchal crime family in Tokyo that finds itself, not surprisingly, in the midst of a brutal gang war. If that’s not enough, there’s a three-way love affair going on within the family circle. With Tao Okamoto, Haruka Abe; written and directed by Adam Sherman.

Angel of Mine (R, 1 hour, 38 minutes) Tense, scary and unpredictable, this decently performed thriller revolves around a woman (Noomi Rapace, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) who, while still grieving the death of her daughter years earlier, becomes obsessed with a neighbor’s child as she starts to believe that the neighbor girl is her girl. The neighboring mom (Yvonne Strahovski) doesn’t handle the situation well. With Luke Evans, Richard Roxburgh; directed by Kim Farrant.