Once upon a time we used to tell stories; now we just tell stories about how we used to tell stories. At least, that’s how it feels to watch a consistently milquetoast, comfortably middlebrow bit of true-life fluff like “Goodbye Christopher Robin,” which does for Winnie the Pooh what “Finding Neverland” did for Peter Pan (which is to say that it takes a formative and utterly unique work of literature and reverse engineers it into a passable biopic that has…

A tedious but tremendously expressive exercise in subjective cinema, “Woodshock” is a sensory-driven experience from start to finish, the Mulleavy sisters foregoing a linear (or coherent) narrative in favor of leading us on a first-person tour through their heroine’s mental collapse. Most of the movie is spent watching Kirsten Dunst as she wanders around the airy house that’s been newly bequeathed to her; more often than not, she’s wearing one of the slips that her mother left behind, the fabric…