Argylle **1/2
Much of Matthew Vaughn’s directing career—particularly Kick-Ass and the three Kingsman features—has been about exercises in laddish outrageousness, where the absurdity of the action set-pieces and copious exposition are considered features rather than bugs. His latest, in collaboration with screenwriter Jason Fuchs, is a convoluted espionage yarn so packed with plot twists and pivots that it kind of distracts from the enjoyable visual nonsense. The hook involves writer Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard), best-selling author of a popular series about a super-spy named Argylle (Henry Cavill), but in her own life a solitary and anxious cat lady. Then a stranger named Aidan (Sam Rockwell) introduces himself on a train, and whisks her into a world of perilous threats from a shadowy secret organization. Vaughn certainly understands how to make it clear that none of this is meant to be taken seriously, including a (literally) balletic gunfight sequence set amidst clouds of colored smoke, and just taking it for granted that knives on the bottom of boots in the middle of a puddle of crude oil would behave like ice skates. It’s just a bummer that Vaughn and Fuchs keep treating their story as though it wouldn’t hold interest without a “betcha didn’t see that coming” moment every 15 minutes or so (but which, yes, you really can see coming). Howard and Rockwell have particular fun amidst the stacked cast, but this is a movie that tries way too hard to be clever when it’s actually much better when it’s being dumb. Available Feb. 2 in theaters. (PG-13)

Farewell Mr. Haffmann **1/2
The appeal of a morality play is easy to understand, but occasionally those stories can feel just a bit too tidy and schematic for the subject at hand. Fred Cavayé’s adaptation of a Jean-Phillippe Daguerre play opens in occupied Paris circa May 1941, as Jewish jeweler Joseph Haffmann (Daniel Auteuil) makes an arrangement with his employee, François Mercier (Gilles Lellouche), to turn over his store ahead of planning to join his family in the free zone. But when Haffmann’s escape attempt is thwarted, he ends up hiding out in the shop’s basement, while Mercier gradually takes over his life. There’s also a subplot involving Mercier and his wife, Blanche (Sara Giraudeu), being unable to have a child, which leads to a weird arrangement by which Mercier asks Haffmann to impregnate his wife, and it’s just as weird and icky as it sounds. Mostly, though, it’s a tale of moral collapse, as Mercier repeatedly finds way to justify exploiting Haffmann, which Lellouche plays well at the outset built on Mercier’s sense of emasculation over his disability (a bad leg), his inability to serve in the Great War and his apparent infertility. And while the focus stays on Mercier trying to convince himself and Blanche that his actions are justifiable, the conclusion feels like a Rod Serling-esque attempt at ironic comeuppance that’s a bit too on-the-nose. Available Feb. 2 in theaters. (NR)

Origin *1/2
Ava DuVernay could have made a didactic documentary out of Isabel Wilkerson’s best-selling 2020 non-fiction book Caste: The Origin of Our Discontents; instead, she opted to make a didactic fiction film, and one where nearly every choice feels misguided. The narrative follows Wilkerson herself (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) as the Pulitzer Prize-winning writer begins diving into her new project—exploring a worldwide history of prejudice built on caste systems—at the same time that she’s coping with personal tragedies, including the deaths of her husband (Jon Bernthal) and mother (Emily Yancy). That structure alone makes for an awkward focus, as it tends to center the messenger at the expense of the message, and that’s leaving aside how frequently other characters in this movie remind us what an amazing writer Wilkerson is. But this is still a story that’s determined to deliver its message, which means characters—usually Wilkerson, which means Ellis-Taylor gets a thankless role—have to stop periodically to deliver the lessons of Wilkerson’s book. And then there are painfully miscalculated scenes like the one in which Wilkerson interacts with a MAGA hat-wearing plumber (Nick Offerman), and all of the problems of a divided America get solved. Caste includes plenty of support for the idea that everything we thought we knew about the underpinnings of American racism is wrong; Origin suggests that everything DuVernay thought she knew about adapting the book is also wrong. Available Feb. 2 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (R)

The Promised Land ****
I’m probably just as guilty as anyone of treating the word “melodrama” at times as a pejorative, but there really isn’t a better word to describe what works so well in co-screenwriter/director Nikolaj Arcel’s adaptation of an Ida Jessen novel. Set in 1755 Denmark, it follows the efforts of retired army captain Ludvig Kahlen (Mads Mikkelsen) to fulfill the Danish king’s desire to settle the untamed heath of Jutland, and earn a much-desired title in the process. His presence brings him into conflict with local landowner Frederik de Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), and it’s not possible to overstate what Bennebjerg’s performance brings to the proceedings; his sense of entitlement and brazen cruelty makes him the ideal villain for a story of this nature. There’s also a complex romantic square involving both de Schinkel’s desired bride (Kristine Kujath Thorp) and Kahlen’s housekeeper, Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin), and an almost perfectly-constructed narrative arc for Mikkelsen to play as a deeply prideful man whose priorities shift almost imperceptibly. Throw in some action-packed confrontations and cinematography by Rasmus Videbaek that heightens the bleakness of the landscape Kahlen is attempting to tame, and you’ve got something that’s exciting, emotionally satisfying and full of moments perfect for cheering and booing—and that, dear friends, is the stuff of A+ melodrama. Available Feb. 2 in theaters. (R)

Scrambled ***
It’s not uncommon for actors to write the part for themselves that they wish someone else would have written for them; it’s a bit less common for the result to be so generally successful. Leah McKendrick wrote, directed and stars as Nellie Robinson, an under-employed 34-year-old on the trailing edge of all her friends who are already married and/or with children. Concerned about the long-term prospects for her fertility, Nellie decides to undergo the arduous—and expensive—process of having her eggs frozen. This journey also gets Nellie in the head-space of looking back on all her exes, and the humor is sometimes overly-broad at making it clear precisely why each guy was not Mr. Right. But McKendrick proves game at making herself the butt of the jokes as often as any man, while also finding the earnest emotion in reaching the moment where pressure from society and parents feels like it’s pushing you towards a decision you’re still not sure you’re ready for. If Scrambled ultimately tries to tie up every conflict in too tidy a bow—most characters who at one point seem like Nellie’s antagonists eventually get a grace note—it feels forgivable in service of a satisfying tale of agency and making peace with your own uncertainty. Available Feb. 2 in theaters. (R)