It is the 1960s. A priest at a Catholic college asks a promising new scholar about his tastes within the arts. “Si, I like the Beatles and cinema,” says the boy, a lot to the chagrin of the priest. “Here, we’ll develop your tastes and direct them to less pagan subjects,” he says. Pedro Almodovar’s lovely and deeply private “Pain and Glory” is stuffed with good little moments like that — moments that make us smile, moments that make us choke up somewhat, moments that resonate. Pain and Glory: 3.5 out of 4