Capsule reviews for May 9

Fed Up
Indeed, we are what we eat, argues this agitprop documentary that serves as a cautionary tale about the dietary habits that have led to skyrocketing American obesity rates. Although the film is somewhat unfocused, director Stephanie Soechtig (Tapped) digs beneath common beliefs about nutrition and exercise by chronicling the stories of some unhealthy children from various backgrounds, as well as presenting a persuasive array of statistics. The film, narrated by Katie Couric, is more adept at placing blame than offering solutions, but it should serve as a call to action for those viewers who walk into the theater with a jumbo popcorn and soda. (Rated PG, 92 minutes).

God’s Pocket

The late Philip Seymour Hoffman is among the high-profile cast members whose performances in this gritty dark comedy can’t overcome a script filled with stock characters and blue-collar cliches. Hoffman plays a Philadelphia sad-sack trying to cover up the ugly circumstances surrounding his stepson’s death. But things get dicey when a journalist (Richard Jenkins) begins snooping around and Mickey’s drinking buddy (John Turturro) can’t keep his mouth shut. The directorial debut of actor John Slattery (TV’s “Mad Men”) is evocative in spots. Yet while the framework suggests an intriguing examination of guilt and redemption, the approach is too earnest and the story is too contrived. (Rated R, 88 minutes).

Moms’ Night Out

Just in time for Mother’s Day comes this misguided tribute to overburdened moms, chronicling the comic misadventures of Allyson (Sarah Drew), Izzy (Andrea Logan White) and Sondra (Patricia Heaton) as they attempt to spend an upscale evening together away from their husbands, children and stress. Naturally, not everything goes as planned. The jokes are broad and obvious, and the wholesome nature of the material makes it seem even more detached from reality. It might be easier to appreciate the efforts of these women if they weren’t so shrill and obnoxious, which sends the opposite of the intended message – that they should just stay home after all. (Rated PG, 98 minutes).

Palo Alto

This uneven adaptation of a short-story compilation by James Franco is neither shocking nor insightful in its portrayal of brooding, disenfranchised California teenagers dealing with peer pressure and irresponsible adults. Specifically, it focuses on a budding romance between impressionable Teddy (Jack Kilmer) and April (Emma Roberts), a soccer player trying to resist the advances of her soccer coach. Despite some strong performances, the meandering script by rookie director Gia Coppola feels more contrived than authentic. And while its fine to not be judgmental toward these rebellious characters — neither sympathetic nor hostile — the film also maintains an emotional distance that conveys an indifference to the audience. (Rated R, 99 minutes).

Stage Fright

It’s easy to admire the subversive effort in this mash-up of cheesy musical theater (think “Glee”) and equally cheesy slasher films (think Friday the 13th) that lacks the courage to follow through on its convictions. It follows a teenager (Allie MacDonald) working a summer musical camp who becomes the unlikely lead in a production. But rather than a dream come true, the role turns into a nightmare once a vengeful serial killer starts prowling around. There are some amusing moments along the way, but with such broad comedic targets, the film would have been better off poking fun at its disparate elements instead of paying tribute. (Rated R, 89 minutes).