It will take a special kind of Cure fan to want to sit in a theater in the summer for 150 minutes and watch the British rock group perform highlights from their four decades of goth-informed melodrama. But that’s the thing about Cure aficionados: They’re rarely casual and usually obsessive, so director Tim Pope’s film—costarring 65,000 punters and one of London’s greatest parks—will literally be like Christmas in July for them. While I can’t abide leader Robert Smith’s lachrymose voice (boys don’t cry? I wish), you gotta respect a band that’s done it their way for so long while dropping loads of indigo-hued lighter-wavers. by Dave Segal