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Inside its sci-fi trappings — space travel, crazy technology, oodles of extraterrestrials — Pixar’s “Elio” is the story of an outsider kid who finds a new family. That’s true of the protagonist, a lonely boy who longs to leave Earth, and of the film itself.

“Elio’s” original mission was launched by Adrian Molina, co-writer of “Coco,” who worked on writing and directing the project for a couple of years before departing, officially to devote himself to “Coco 2.” Molina was replaced in “Elio’s” director’s chair(s) by Domee Shi, who helmed “Turning Red” and won an Oscar for her short “Bao,” and Madeline Sharafian, a story artist on “Coco” and story lead on “Turning Red.”

“The basic premise from Adrian’s beginning, five years ago, has stayed the same,” says Sharafian: “A lonely, weird little boy gets abducted by aliens and is mistaken for the leader of Earth. The biggest change we made, and everything rippled from there, was that Elio always wanted to be abducted by aliens, to find a place where he belongs.”

Shi says, “Both of us were weirdo kids in our respective hometowns who dreamed of not being the only one. I was one of the only kids in my school that liked anime. When I finally got into animation school, I was like, ‘I found my people, and I didn’t realize how much I wanted this.’ ”

One tectonic shift under Shi and Sharafian came from screenwriter Julia Cho, who co-wrote “Turning Red” with Shi: Instead of Olga (voiced by Zoe Saldaña) being Elio’s mom, she would be his aunt. Elio (voiced by Yonas Kibreab) would lose both parents before the film. That reconfigured his alienation, so to speak. A harsh confrontation between mother and child usually rests on the foundation that they already know and love each other. For an orphaned boy and his guardian aunt, that closeness must be earned.

“That love isn’t a given,” says Sharafian. “There was no assumption it would be there. So when it is, it’s all the more moving.”

“Elio” directors Domee Shi and Madeline Sharafian’s shared “visual language” reshaped the film after they took on the project from its initial director, Adrian Molina.

(Pixar Animation Studios)

Amid the changes, Shi and Sharafian say the working relationship they established on “Turning Red” was invaluable.

Shi says, “Though we have different backgrounds, we grew up watching a lot of the same movies. Both of us love Miyazaki films, we love ‘Sailor Moon,’ we love Disney, Pixar.”

Sharafian adds, “We speak the same visual language. There would be many moments when it was time to come up with a new shot and we both drew the same thing.”

In its 28 previous features, Pixar had dabbled in sci-fi, but “Elio” is immersed in it, with just a soupçon of … horror?

“We’re huge fans of sci-fi horror,” says Shi, “and we wanted to use those moments with Elio’s clone and Olga to have fun, to playfully scare some kids — and some adults too.”

That “clone” is a dead ringer for the protagonist, but it emerged from space goo and formed into an eerily cheerful version of the boy, like something from “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” or “The Stepford Wives,” but nice.

“The movies that impacted me the most as a kid, a lot of them did scare me, but they rewarded me as well,” says Shi. “Our film has this Spielberg-y, comfortable, nostalgic, family sci-fi vibe. So when the audience is at their most comfortable, that’s the perfect opportunity to give ’em a little spook.” Both directors cackle.

Sharafian adds, “ ‘Close Encounters’ is so scary, but in an amazing, tense way, and the musical [phrase] the aliens sent, I was so haunted by that. When we had the universe reach out to Elio, we were like, ‘How do we capture that same feeling — we want to know more, but we’re unsure of their intentions?’ ”

Beyond Steven Spielberg’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” and “E.T.,” the shared influences of the sci-fi horror of “The Thing” and “Alien” influenced their choice of a virtual anamorphic lens for their cinematography and aping the visual noise and atmospheric mist in those films.

Among the changes Shi and Sharafian made to “Elio” is its “epic” widescreen aspect ratio.

(Pixar Animation Studios)

Shi adds that they also changed the aspect ratio from 1.85 (standard widescreen) to 2.39:1 (anamorphic widescreen, an ultrawide look): “It helped shots of Elio on Earth feel more lonely, but also made space feel more epic.”

“To lay that on top of” Molina’s existing work, says Sharafian, “completely changed what the movie looked like.”

The directors agree that most of the film seamlessly blends their input, though Shi specialized in the horror and action sequences, while Sharafian leaned into the emotional scenes.

“A lot of Act 1 was you, Maddie,” says Shi, “where he’s feeling soulful and lonely. I love that. Yearning, watching the stars. I feel like that’s probably from your own childhood.”

Sharafian chuckles and says, “Yes, I was very lonely! My sister and I say we had ‘rich inner lives’ because we didn’t have a lot going on outside.”

It’s not “Up”-level gut-wrenching, but the scenes establishing the heartbroken boy’s lingering trauma hit pretty hard.

“I feel like it’s good to be sad,” says Sharafian. “At Pixar, we’re lucky; we get to stay in a childlike headspace for a really long time. I think we forget how deep children’s emotions are and how, when you’re young, you’re already thinking about very sad things and dark things. So I don’t think it’s too much.”

It was the look on Steven Jamerson II’s face.

That was the toughest thing to watch. That was what seared into the mind. That’s what made you want to fire Mick Cronin on the spot.

It was a look of embarrassment. It was a look of confusion. It was the look of a young man who had just been cruelly pushed around by someone with more power.

Mick Cronin is a classic bully, and the fact that UCLA continues to empower him with new contracts and no questions is misguided malfeasance.

So, he wins games. He doesn’t win enough to compensate for incidents like Tuesday night in East Lansing, Mich., where Cronin became perhaps the first college coach in history to eject his own player from the game and order him to the locker room in the middle of the game.

Yes, Cronin holds players accountable. That’s fine, as long as he also holds himself accountable, but that didn’t happen when, after his team was beaten by 23 points by Michigan State in a second consecutive humiliating loss, he publicly criticized Jamerson for the hard foul that led to the ejection incident and then wrongly assailed a reporter for allegedly raising his voice during postgame questioning.

Cronin has become a walking viral video. He has become a nightly uncomfortable wince. He has become an embarrassment to a university athletic department that prides itself on winning with class.

John Wooden would be ashamed.

Mick Cronin is light years from the aura of Coach, and if UCLA cared a whit about the legacy of its legend, it would care that his flame has been completely snuffed by this unworthy keeper.

Wooden’s home is now decorated with a pyramid of poop, and one wonders how many humiliations will be required to convince administrators to clean things up.

UCLA coach Mick Cronin extends his arms and complains while watching the Bruins lose to Michigan State Tuesday in East Lansing, Mich.

(Rey Del Rio / Getty Images)

Cronin quietly signed a new five-year contract last summer that includes a $22,5 million buyout if he is fired this spring. That figure drops to $18 million, then $13.5 million, then $9 million, then $4.5 million in coming years. No wonder the Bruins didn’t publicize the deal at the time. It was another Martin Jarmond mistake, and now the entire university is going to pay the price.

It’s hard to see UCLA canning Cronin in the next couple of years because of those buyouts, which means this mess of a program is going to be increasingly hard to watch.

What happened Tuesday should scare away any of the remaining top prospects who would want to play for this berating blowhard. His usual postgame rants don’t compare to what happened on that Michigan State court, where he picked on the wrong kid in the worst possible fashion.

By all accounts, Jamerson is a dream player, one filled with resilience and gratitude. The former Crespi High star initially wanted to play for Michigan State, but he couldn’t make the team, even as a walk-on, so he tried to become a student manager, and failed at that, too. After spending a year there as a student, he transferred to University of San Diego, where he spent three seasons strengthening his game before eventually transferring to UCLA. This season he has spent most of his time on the bench, playing about 11 minutes per game for the Bruins while supplying rebounding and defense and energy.

It was this fire that led him to give chase to Michigan State’s Carson Cooper in the final five minutes of a game that UCLA currently trailed by 27. Cooper went up for a fast break dunk and Jamerson knocked him to the floor. It was ruled a Flagrant 1 excessive foul, but not a dangerous Flagrant 2 foul, so Jamerson was not ejected from the game.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Moments later Cronin was grabbing the kid’s shirt and leading him to the baseline, where he ordered an assistant coach to remove him from the court area and banish him to the locker room.

Jamerson’s dreams of a solid return to a school that snubbed him were shattered. His night ended amid a storm of laughing students and obscene gestures.

UCLA coach Mick Cronin shouts toward the bench while sending Steven Jamerson II to the locker room after the player was called for a foul Tuesday at Michigan State.

(Rey Del Rio / Getty Images)

It was just awful, and so avoidable. Why couldn’t Cronin have just sent Jamerson to the end of the bench? Considering it wasn’t a Flagrant 2, why did he even have to take him out of the game? Why did he have to make an example of a player who was understandably overeager on what could have been one of the triumphant nights of his life?

“Steve’s a good kid. He made a bad decision. But if you want to be a tough guy, you need to do it during the game, for a blockout, for a rebound,” said Cronin afterward.

“So, I was thoroughly disappointed; the guy was defenseless in the air. I know Steve was trying to block the shot, but the game’s a 25-point game. You don’t do that.”

That point could have been made without humiliation. But Cronin wasn’t done, later admonishing a reporter for what he considered a dumb question, then scolding the reporter for allegedly raising his voice at him.

The question was about the student section’s harassment of former Spartan Xavier Booker, which seemed like a legitimate query considering Booker had a terrible game. But what was really baffling was Cronin’s claim that the questioner was raising his voice.

Listen to the video. No voices were raised. It was just Cronin once again being a bully. You want a raised voice? Here, I’ll raise my voice in words that Cronin will hopefully understand.

CHILL OUT! SHOW RESPECT! HONOR WOODEN!

If the coach doesn’t grow up and the program doesn’t rapidly improve — for a third straight year they’re barely a tournament team — there needs to be another ejection.

It would be the most expensive firing in UCLA history. It would be worth every penny.

To age is to find one’s appreciation for life’s daily joys sharpen, especially as more inconvenient realities assert themselves. Lifelong Tangier resident Maria Angeles (Carmen Maura), part of the bustling Moroccan city’s entrenched Spanish community, is one such grateful senior. We see her at the beginning of “Calle Málaga” in a state of smiling contentment, walking her neighborhood streets and being greeted by vendors.

What she surely isn’t expecting, however, as she buys food and makes croquetas in preparation for an eagerly awaited visit from her daughter from Madrid, is that this trip will threaten all she holds dear. That’s because Clara (Marta Etura), a divorced mom struggling to pay the bills, arrives with the news that she’s selling the grand old apartment her widowed mother has lived in for 40 years. Won’t it be nicer for Maria to live with her in Spain and be closer to her grandchildren? Or at the very least be taken care of locally in Spanish-specialized assisted living?

The look on Maura’s face — this celebrated actor’s most well-honed tool — suggests a range of emotions regarding forced elderhood or grannydom that are far less accommodating.

How Maria handles her imminent uprooting is at the core of Moroccan filmmaker Maryam Touzani’s third feature, her follow-up to the similarly sensitive family drama “The Blue Caftan.” “Calle Málaga,” written with Touzani’s husband Nabil Ayouch, is not a passive narrative, though, merely content with the internalized ache of acceptance. It is to some extent an emotional heist film and protest tale in delicate harmony, in that after initially agreeing to be placed in that Tangier senior center while her possessions are boxed up or sold, Maria schemes to steal her life back from under her absent daughter’s nose.

If you don’t look too closely at the details of Touzani’s charming scenario — which requires that a lot of things to fall into place, if enjoyably so — the movie becomes a sweet and spicy counternarrative to stories about aging that patronize their protagonists. (Another noteworthy example was last year’s rapturous American indie “Familiar Touch.”) Maria essentially becomes a crafty squatter in her own up-for-sale apartment, reclaiming some items from a hard-nosed but increasingly understanding antiques dealer (a well-cast Ahmed Boulane) and engineering a clever way to earn money with the help of friendly neighborhood kids who adore her. Her gambit even opens the door for unexpected romance, giving her frequent chats with Josefa (María Alfonsa Rosso), a childhood friend, an increasingly eye-opening frankness.

It’s hard to imagine anyone other than Maura, her almond-shaped eyes as powerfully suggestive as ever, conveying Maria’s rejuvenated spirit and sensuality with as much magnetism. Touzani, an unfussy, patient director with a fondness for the simplicity of human interaction, implicitly trusts her star to carry the film’s effervescence and complexity, although you may wish the filmmaking was a little less straightforward.

There is, after all, a reckoning for Maria’s situation we can’t help but keep in the back of our mind. Because our first brief glimpse of Clara is a sympathetic one — as opposed to conveniently antagonistic — we know “Calle Málaga” won’t settle for a tidy resolution. And it doesn’t, save leaving us with a view of Maria’s bid for freedom that, like the rose petal that is one of Touzani’s go-to visuals, beautifies the air whether still connected to the roots or separated and strewn like so much that’s fragile in life.