Beetlejuice Beetlejuice ***
It’s always rough when a favorite artist loses their cool, and director Tim Burton has been living in that sad “remember when” space for years now. But here’s a reminder not just of what he once was, but what he could always be with a little more discernment. He returns to the town of Winter River, where Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) and her daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega), are attending the funeral of Lydia’s father—which means it’s time for another encounter with fright-wigged demon Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton). Betelgeuse has his own problems, dealing with the return of his soul-sucking wife (Monica Bellucci), and that’s just one of the way too many subplots crammed into this thing, including a romantic interest for Astrid, Lydia’s own overly-earnest manager/boyfriend (Justin Theroux), Astrid’s unresolved issues with her dead father and more indications that someone thought a complex plot was why anyone was interested in a Beetlejuice sequel. Fortunately, the movie is bursting with visual imagination in a way that evokes the wonderfully low-tech visual-effects of the 1988 original, and plenty of creativity devoted to making the deeply problematic Jeffrey Jones unnecessary as a cast member. Plus, you’ve got Catherine O’Hara absolutely killing it as Lydia’s stepmother. By the time we get to a climactic sequence set to the Richard Harris version of “MacArthur” park—this movie’s counterpart to the original’s “Day-O”—it feels like Burton has found his groove of satisfying weirdness. Welcome back. Available Sept. 6 in theaters. (PG-13)

His Three Daughters ****
You’re lucky when a movie nails one of three when it comes to visual style, thematic heft and great performances; writer/director Azazel Jacobs and company hit the trifecta. It’s a simple enough set-up, as three sisters—Katie (Carrie Coon), Rachel (Natasha Lyonne) and Christina (Elizabeth Olsen)—gather in the New York apartment where they all grew up for what are likely the last days of their terminally-ill father. All three leads are dynamic, capturing unique personality reactions to the three characters having grown up mostly without their mothers, including how they respond to the idea of their own motherhood. And Jacobs teases out the complex dynamics between the three, including how being in a childhood home affects the way people behave. Most impressively, though, Jacobs takes what easily could have been a stage play in its mostly-single-set premise and provides some wonderful filmmaking choices: focusing on a shuddering cup of coffee to emphasize how intensely Katie is writing her father’s obituary; a reflection in a hallway photo indicating a character is coming down a hall; the sound design in which Christina’s attempt at meditation can’t compete with the beeping of her dad’s medical equipment. Tie that all up with an emotionally devastating exploration of what people need to say to one another before it’s too late, or hope someone can say to them, and you have one of the year’s best, most complete films. Available Sept. 6 at Broadway Centre Cinemas; Sept. 20 via Netflix. (R)

I'll Be Right There ***
Low-key character studies like this feel like an endangered species at the movies, so it’s particularly satisfying to find one that’s sharp, charming and unpretentious about its themes. It’s the story of Wanda Miles (Edie Falco), a divorced woman living in Pearl River, N.Y. whose life seems to revolve around being on call for her family members: her eight-months-pregnant, soon-to-be-married daughter Sarah (Kayli Carter); her recovering-addict son Mark (Charlie Tahan); her poker-playing mother (Jeannie Berlin). Director Brendan Walsh (a veteran of Falco’s Nurse Jackie) and screenwriter Jim Beggarly allow those relationships and several more—including Wanda’s ex-husband (Bradley Whitford), her boyfriend (Michael Rappaport), a former high-school classmate (Michael Beach) and the woman she’s started seeing on the side (Sepideh Moafi)—to steep in the small-town setting, and the simple routines of Wanda’s life as a freelance bookkeeper. The result is something that warrants favorable comparison to the fiction of Richard Russo crossed with the films of Nicole Holofcener, unassuming tales of basically decent people living simple but still compelling lives. At the center is Falco, whose performance evokes something warm and human about being completely devoted to other people, and being mostly okay with that. Only rarely do the filmmakers push the quirkiness level, and the result is a genuinely pleasant surprise. Available Sept. 6 in theaters. (NR)

Rebel Ridge ***1/2
Writer/director Jeremy Saulnier (Blue Ruin, Green Room) has shown a gift for ratcheting up the tension in his features to almost unbearable levels, so it’s almost unfair that he opens with a scene that makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Terry (Aaron Pierre), a retired Marine, is stopped by a pair of local cops (David Denman and Emory Cohen) while trying to post bail for his cousin—and it’s not at all incidental to the power of the scene that Terry is Black. When the cops confiscate Terry’s cash, Terry ultimately stumbles into a massive corruption scheme led by the police chief (Don Johnson), and can only trust a court employee (AnnaSophia Robb) for assistance. The nature of the scheme is a bit of a MacGuffin, serving primarily to drive the slow burn towards justice, and the even slower burn of Pierre’s dynamic lead performance. He channels the deep understanding in so many Black men that any false move in the presence of authority could be a death sentence, and along the way Terry becomes a uniquely powerful kind of action hero who understands his own ability to achieve his ends without killing. A little less focus on the increasing complexities of the plot might have resulted in a near perfect suspense thriller—but that still results in one that could leave you gripping the armrests of whatever seat you’re in. Available Sept. 6 via Netflix. (R)