CNS photo/Universal Pictures

NEW YORK (CNS)—The proper limits of free speech and the appropriate use of violence are just two of the topics raised in the striking but gritty dramatization “Straight Outta Compton” (Universal).

As he recounts the rise and collapse of the gangster rap group N.W.A, beginning in 1986, director F. Gary Gray clearly intends to use the ensemble’s experiences as a vantage point for a larger critique of society as a whole.

While there’s no denying the serious intent behind Gray’s collective biography, the yawning gulf between the materialistic lifestyle the whole genre of hip-hop tends to glamorize and an outlook based on scriptural values is equally indisputable. Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff’s script nibbles at the edges of the art form’s assumptions, but never fundamentally challenges them.

The story focuses primarily on the two members of N.W.A—Ice Cube (played by the rapper’s son, O’Shea Jackson Jr) and Dr. Dre (Corey Hawkins)—who went on to have headlining solo careers as well as on Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell), another founder whose life took a different turn. This trio’s goal, shared with collaborators DJ Yella (Neil Brown Jr.) and MC Ren (Aldis Hodge), is to translate the frustrations of growing up in the Los Angeles-area ghetto of the title into popular protest music.

Aided by seemingly good-hearted manager Jerry Heller (Paul Giamatti), who successfully markets their sound, the guys parlay their local notoriety into nationwide fame. But controversy dogs them, based largely on the perception that some of their lyrics call for attacks on the police.

The nature and legitimacy of N.W.A’s actual stance is open to debate. But there’s no getting around the fact that cops—whether they hail from Southern California or the Midwest—are relentlessly demonized in “Straight Outta Compton.”

In the current climate of alienation between minority communities and law enforcement, such vilification becomes more than mere evidence of a narrow cinematic perspective. Reinforced by images of the Rodney King beating—and news accounts of the acquittals that followed for the officers involved in it—this unbalanced portrayal skirts the border between radicalism and irresponsibility.

The movie’s outlook on violence in general, at least of the retaliatory sort, is ambiguous at best. Giamatti earnestly counsels Eazy-E to seek only legal means of redress after the singer is assaulted by menacing, semi-psychotic record producer Suge Knight (R. Marcus Taylor)—who in summer 2015 awaits trial on murder charges stemming from an incident that, ironically, took place on the “Compton” film set.

Yet Heller, the only white character of any significance in “Compton,” turns out, in the end, to be more of a greedy manipulator than a genuine mentor. And an earlier scene has made giddy fun out of an armed confrontation between the freewheeling womanizers of N.W.A and some rivals for the affections of the ladies they’re currently, er, entertaining in a hotel suite.

In fact, these competitors interrupt an orgy. Not only is this interlude needlessly explicit, it also serves to reinforce the picture’s overall misogyny, under the terms of which women’s body parts are far more prominent than their personalities.

A more critical treatment of the ethically impoverished worldview that permeates the music it celebrates would have made this sometimes flavorful slice of pop culture history endorsable for at least a few mature viewers. And including a line or two of dialogue not weighed down with an obscenity would have helped as well.

The film contains flawed morality, some harsh violence, strong sexual content, including brief but graphic casual activity and full nudity, drug use, several instances of profanity and pervasive rough and crude language. The Catholic News Service classification is O—morally offensive. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is R—restricted. Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.

“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” (Warner Bros.)

Droll humor punctuates this breezy espionage yarn, set at the height of the Cold War in 1963. Forced to work together to retrieve revolutionary nuclear know-how that may have fallen into the hands of the shady heir (Luca Calvani) to a fascism-tainted Italian industrial fortune and his scheming but elegant wife (Elizabeth Debicki), an art thief-turned-CIA operative (Henry Cavill) and a rage-prone KGB agent (Armie Hammer) team with the daughter (Alicia Vikander) of the missing scientist who developed the breakthrough to track the couple. In adapting the mid-1960s television series, director and co-writer Guy Ritchie diverts his audience with James Bond-style glamour while keeping the violence vague. But the substantial, if slightly strange, relationship that increasingly tethers Hammer and Vikander is offset by Cavill’s carefree philandering. And the script’s anti-war, pro-friendship sentiments rest, to some extent, on an implied moral equivalence between the forces of East and West wholly at variance with history. Much violence, including torture, but with little gore, brief gruesome images, off-screen casual encounters, glimpses of partial nudity, some sexual banter, a couple of crude terms. The Catholic News Service classification is A-III—adults. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is PG-13—parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

“Ricki and the Flash” (TriStar)

Not even the storied talent of Meryl Streep can hold together the scattershot elements of this character study as it veers between drama and romantic comedy—and between a realistic view of moral shortcomings and the illusion of simplistic solutions. Under Jonathan Demme’s direction, Streep plays an aging, unsuccessful rocker who long ago abandoned her family to pursue her musical ambitions. She’s forced to confront the legacy of her own selfishness, however, when her sympathetic ex (Kevin Kline) summons her back from L.A. to Indiana to help him cope with the downward emotional spiral into which their grown daughter (Mamie Gummer, Streep’s daughter in real life) has descended after being dumped by her husband. Though Diablo Cody’s script is unsparing in its portrayal of the damage caused by the protagonist’s desertion, it not only offers her fresh hope in the person of her affectionate live-in boyfriend (Rick Springfield), but suggests that all the destruction she left behind can be cleaned up with good intentions and a well-chosen song. Cohabitation, a nongraphic premarital bedroom scene, benignly viewed drug use, mature themes, including homosexuality, at least one use of profanity, several crude and crass terms. The Catholic News Service classification is A-III—adults. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is PG-13—parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

“Fantastic Four” (Fox)

Glum origin story, drawn from the Marvel Comics series, recounts how a quartet of youthful science enthusiasts—Miles Teller, Michael B. Jordan, Kate Mara and Toby Kebbell—working under the sponsorship of a wealthy research institute (represented by Reg E. Cathey), develops a machine capable of transporting people to a previously unknown dimension. But a hurried, unauthorized visit there by the three lads, undertaken to forestall others from stealing the limelight, has unexpected and ambiguous consequences—for them, for Mara’s character and for a tag-along (Jamie Bell). Director and co-writer Josh Trank’s reboot of a chronicle that stretches back, in print, to 1961 shows subtlety in its treatment of the group’s unsought superpowers. Yet the misfortunes that accompany these gifts become mildly miserable for the audience, while a ham-handed critique of the military-industrial complex does little to lighten the mood. Parents of the teens at whom the film is squarely aimed will want to be aware of late scenes featuring some harsh bloodletting, forays into mayhem that make this doubtful fare even for older adolescents. Brief gory violence, glimpses of partial nudity, at least one use of profanity, a handful of crude terms, an obscene gesture. The Catholic News Service classification is A-III—adults. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is PG-13—parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

“The Gift” (STX)

What begins as a psychological thriller eventually reveals itself as another entry in the revenge-fantasy genre. After relocating from Chicago to California, a smugly successful corporate security expert (Jason Bateman) and his interior-designer wife (Rebecca Hall) happen to reconnect with one of his high school classmates (Joel Edgerton), a socially awkward veteran whose increasingly disturbing behavior toward the couple is motivated by his memories of life as an adolescent outcast. Edgerton, who also wrote and directed, happily embraces horror cliches in the midst of his understated style. While he competently delivers a few seat-jumping shocks, the conclusion of his film is marred by several logical flaws as well as by the misogynistic notion that Hall’s character can somehow be made to represent a sexual “gift” herself. A vengeance theme, some physical violence, an implied sexual assault, adult banter, a couple of uses of profanity, frequent rough and crude language. The Catholic News Service classification is A-III—adults. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is R—restricted. Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian