The 2012 Portland Cine Spree
A screening of Free Radicals, a doc about the history of experimental film, followed by a slew of shorts and a "public salon to engage everyone in a discussion about the current state of experimental filmmaking and exhibition in Portland." More info: cstpdx.com. Clinton Street Theater.

All Divided Selves
Amidst unintroduced talking heads and splashes of archival imagery, there's a soundbite from Luke Fowler's All Divided Selves—the feature-length experimental film about Scottish psychoanalyst and anti-psychiatry figure R.D. Liang—that seems worth a paraphrase: schizophrenia is a confusion in the use of metaphors. Schizophrenia, a central point of study for Liang, can then also be seen as the structural inspiration for Fowler's collage of interviews, television appearances, and archival documents. Delivered from talk-show couches and staged instructional settings, Liang's philosophies are entangled with scenes of treatment and therapy, often with little connective significance. The result is less linear and more tonal; Liang arrives indistinguishable from those he attempts to help, a semi-mad mender of madness. All Divided Selves is as much a documentary as it is a re-creation of a state of mind. MATT STANGEL YU Contemporary.

Anna Karenina
See review this issue. Fox Tower 10.

Beasts of the Southern Wild
I'll let you in on a secret: Writing negative reviews is pretty easy. Every doofy plot twist and bungled CG jumpkick pulls you out of the moviegoing experience, allowing you plenty of time to compose elaborately mean puns for your headline. It's harder to review a movie when it succeeds–and I mean really succeeds, in that it draws you in completely. The surreal, fantastic Beasts of the Southern Wild is that kind of movie: You may leave the theater conflicted and even confused, but you won't be thinking about anything else while you're watching it. BEN COLEMAN Academy Theater, Laurelhurst Theater.

Buoy
A Portland-set drama. See next week's Mercury for our review. Hollywood Theatre.

Flight
A clumsy, preachy, feature-length infomercial for AA. ERIK HENRIKSEN Various Theaters.

Grindhouse Film Festival
The Grindhouse Film Fest presents the only known 35mm print of XTRO, 1983's "batshit crazy sci-fi/horror" flick involving aliens, monsters, telekinetic powers, and more. Hollywood Theatre.

A Late Quartet
At the start of A Late Quartet, Christopher Walken's character explains to a group of his cello students that Beethoven's late quartet, Opus 131, is not the standard four movements but instead has seven parts and that you have to play them straight through with no breaks, which causes your instruments to go all out of tune with one another. "It's a mess," he says. It's also a metaphor about how basic entropy affects togetherness. The togetherness, say, of a musical group that's been playing together for 25 years when the oldest member finds he has Parkinson's and can't go on. Walken plays that character. Has he ever been the emotional center of a film before? It's magical. For much of A Late Quartet, the camera follows the storm of the other characters' drama—often, melodrama—until it finds a resting place once again on Walken's alien face, quietly registering the effects of old age. JEN GRAVES Fox Tower 10.

Life of Pi
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

Lincoln
Oscar bait doesn't get much more baiting than this: Steven Spielberg directing Daniel Day-Lewis with a Tony Kushner script about the final months of America's most beloved, tragic president. By and large, Lincoln wanders many of the same paths Spielberg's other Oscar bait-y films have taken—this one feels particularly like Amistad, though there's some War Horse in here too. Lincoln is a generally well-made film, but it's also one stitched together from Day-Lewis' dramatic monologues and cinematographer Janusz Kaminski's reverential sepia tones: Even when it tries to humanize Lincoln, it's mostly just here to reaffirm what a Great Man he was and how he made some Very Important History. ERIK HENRIKSEN Various Theaters.

Miami Connection
See review this issue. Hollywood Theatre.

The Nightmare Before Christmas
"Attacked by Christmas toys? That's strange. That's the second toy complaint we've had." Laurelhurst Theater.

Red Dawn
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

Rise of the Guardians
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

The Sacrifice
Andrei Tarkovsky's final film is a mere two and a half hours long! For Tarkovsky, that's practically a music video! Fifth Avenue Cinema.

The Sessions
Helen Hunt plays Cheryl, who's been hired to indoctrinate paralyzed writer Mark (John Hawkes) in the ways of S-E-X. Mark contracted polio as a kid, and the iron lung has seriously hindered his game—so after realizing that other disabled people still manage to have sex lives, he contacts Cheryl to figure out just what kind of experiences his paralyzed body is capable of having. The Sessions is bound to be over praised, but Hunt and Hawkes are so damn good, and the scenes between the two of them so rich in awkward, funny, premature ejaculate-y tenderness, that the strengths of this odd little true story far outweigh its imperfections. ALISON HALLETT Various Theaters.

Silver Linings Playbook
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

Starlet
A drama about "the unlikely friendship between 21 year-old aspiring actress Jane and elderly widow Sadie." Featuring 27 straight minutes of ultra-tight poppin' and lockin' dance-off action. Living Room Theaters.

Tales of the Night
A beautiful animated film. With its shadow puppet technique set against gorgeous, vibrant scenery, this thing on mute would be an excellent backdrop at art parties. That said, its telling of several folkloric tales of love and bravery feels a little... racist? Like, I don't think people are supposed to think that pre-Columbian America and Africa are culturally interchangeable. It's uncomfortable. If you take your kids—and by all means, go for it, because kids would probably like it—be sure to set aside some time during the car ride home for a conversation on exoticism and cultural appropriation. But still. Pretty movie! ELINOR JONES Northwest Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium.