Debra Winger and Tracy Letts are miserable marrieds in writer-director Azazel Jacobs’ acidic dramedy, each in the midst of an affair and on the brink of asking for divorce. It’s not quite clear at the outset why they can’t stand each other; they seem to have reached the point of polite, bloodless cohabitation. Nor is it clear why these two office drones are so appealing to their relatively exotic lovers (hers is a writer, his is a dancer). But “why” is not the point; the point is that, for whatever reason, they regain the spark — the old carnal connection that spawned their son, who’s due home for a visit with his lovely girlfriend. Said spark gets fanned into flame by the fact that suddenly, they’re cheating on their lovers — ooh la la. But of course, there’s more to love than sex. Indeed, by film’s end, it might be difficult to see what one has to do with the other. It’s tempting to read this as a younger generation’s condemnation of its parents’ me-first indulgence, and an affirmation of familial unity by an unblinking, accusatory — but not histrionic — look at its opposite. (2017) — Matthew Lickona