The 4:30 Movie **1/2
Kevin Smith built his entire filmmaking career around a hang-out vibe and an obsession with pop-culture ephemera, so it’s no surprise to see his nostalgic paean to being a Gen-X teen setting up shop squarely within that space. Set over the course of a single day—specifically, May 25, 1986—it deals with a high-school junior-to-be named Brian (Austin Zajur) who has finally worked up the nerve to ask out Melody (Siena Agudong), the girl he’s long had a crush on. And to pass the time until the big date, Brian and his two best pals, Belly (Reed Northrup) and Burny (Nicholas Cirillo), spend the day theater-hopping at the local New Jersey multiplex. Smith devotes much of the time to evoking the particulars of the era, from his fake movie trailers and extended Flash Gordon parody to details like touch-tone landlines and Velcro wallets, along with plenty of nudging nods to future events like the fall from grace of Bill Cosby. It all gets a little bit exhausting in a feature-length “I understood that reference” way, even if (like me) you are exactly the demographic target for this I Love the ’80s content. Fortunately, the leads are fairly engaging, and Smith shows some wisdom about the weird friendship dynamics particular to teen boys of that time. Perhaps it’s appropriate that, for what amounts to his cinephile origin story, Smith reminds us of exactly who he’s always been as a filmmaker. Available Sept. 13 in theaters. (R)

The Critic **
The new title created for this adaptation of Anthony Quinn’s novel Curtain Call suggests a specific character as the central pivot point, but that focus is lacking both from a narrative standpoint and from a thematic standpoint. The titular critic is Jimmy Erskine (Ian McKellen), a 40-year veteran of the theater beat for a London newspaper circa 1934. When the paper’s owner dies at leaves it to his son, the Viscount Brooke (Mark Strong), however, Jimmy’s job is at risk—in part due to his acidic writing, and in part due to being a closeted gay man. A convoluted plot to save his job ensues, involving aging-out-of-ingenue-roles actress Nina (Gemma Arterton), who had been involved in an affair with Brooke’s artist son-in-law (Ben Barnes). That’s a lot of duplicity to untangle, and at times it feels that director Anand Tucker wants to emphasize the societal impact of humiliating secrets, especially when he zeroes his camera in on shifting eyes. Yet there’s also reference to rising fascism, and the fact that Jimmy writes for a right-wing paper—but what exactly is it saying about sacrificing principle for a dollar? McKellen certainly sinks his teeth into the self-loathing that’s part of his personal and professional life, but by the time the story has veered hard into almost film-noir darkness … well, Jimmy himself would write some choice words about it. Available Sept. 13 in theaters. (R)

The Faith of Angels **
It’s a lament I’ve been making for 25 years now, and one I seemingly won’t stop making: Faith-based movies have to be as concerned about being movies as they are about being faith-based. This one from writer/director Garrett Batty (The Saratov Approach) is based on a true story set in Tooele, Utah in September 1989, when 10-year-old Josh Dennis (Michael Bradford) gets lost in an abandoned mine shaft while on a scouting trip. Much of what follows focuses on the rescue efforts, and in particular on amateur historian John Skinner (John Michael Finley) feeling a mysterious calling to use his knowledge of the cave system to provide assistance. But despite early suggestions that Skinner has some issues to work through, the character never develops into someone who’s wrestling meaningfully with the idea that he’s hearing the voice of angels. Nor is there any equivalent complexity to the local sheriff (Cameron Arnett), whose role is mostly to be a gruff skeptic standing in the way of things. What remains is an earnest look at people trying to get through a crisis with the help of their faith, and some of those scenes are touching. That’s not the same, however, as a story actually providing drama or a depth of character development. Faith can move mountains, or help people find a lost child in one, but it’s not enough to drive a narrative. Available Sept. 13 in theaters. (PG)

The Killer’s Game **1/2
If it seems like an odd fit to combine John Wick and the 2006 Queen Latifah vehicle Last Holiday, that’s only because it is—as this movie proves. Based on a Jay Bonansinga novel, it tells the story of Joe Flood (Dave Bautista), a contract killer who we are repeatedly reminded only kills bad guys who deserve it, like human traffickers and oligarchs and whatnot. He’s on the verge of retirement, and in a happy relationship with a dancer (Sofia Boutella), when he receives a diagnosis for a terminal illness, and turns to an old fellow killer (Pom Klementieff) for a contract to take himself out. You might know more about this premise depending on how much of the marketing you’re paying attention to, but suffice it to say that plenty of digital-blood-spewing violence ensues, crafted by first-time feature director/veteran stuntman JJ Perry with an eye towards graphic-novel aesthetics including panel-divided split-screens and character names appearing conveniently captioned on-screen. Yet the screenplay also seems oddly sincere about the romantic subplot, Joe’s friendship with his handler (Ben Kingsley) and his desire for redemption, as though it somehow weren’t sprinkled in with stuff like a guy who kills people with the spurs he’s wearing while listening to flamenco music. Occasionally it all comes together, like a sequence involving an incredulous priest, but it’s too glib about its ultra-violence to get us invested in a potential happily-ever-after. Available Sept. 13 in theaters. (R)

Merchant Ivory ***1/2
The closing credits of Stephen Soucy’s documentary identify most of the primary interview subjects as “members of the Merchant Ivory family”—and indeed, this feels more like a family portrait than it does an overview of a creative output. That’s not to say that Soucy doesn’t spend plenty of time on the key films in the oeuvre of director James Ivory and producer Ismail Merchant—A Room With a View, Howards End, The Remains of the Day and more—addressing both the acclaim and audience popularity they achieved and the way “Merchant Ivory,” for better or worse, became a kind of dismissive shorthand for costume period pieces. But the film draws its strength from understanding how the 40-plus-year life partnership between Ivory and Merchant overlapped with their professional collaborations, and how they were able to turn shoestring budgets into great art with the help of collaborators like writer Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, composer Richard Robbins, costume designers Jenny Beavan and John Bright and actors Emma Thompson, Helena Bonham Carter and Hugh Grant. The behind-the-scenes tidbits are entertaining, and it certainly helps that Ivory, still lively and thoughtful in his 90s, is able to contribute first-hand accounts. The result is a wonderful snippet of film history, and a great recognition of how the “auteur theory” falls short of understanding when a film only succeeds with a host of people being allowed to do their best work. Available Sept. 13 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Seeking Mavis Beacon **1/2
Michael Moore’s Roger & Me established a template for the “filmmaker on a quest” documentary, and the many subsequent examples have shown that there are many different ways to approach the uncertainty of whether the filmmaker will find what they’re looking for. But one of the key components for making such a structure work is understanding what your movie is about, regardless of the quest’s outcome. Director Jazmin Jones and her collaborator/researcher Olivia Ross take as their starting point the early-’90s learn-to-type computer program Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing, which notably used a Black woman as its cover model and avatar for an instructor, providing a unique kind of representation for its time. Jones and Ross do talk to folks about what it meant to them to see a Black woman as a figure of expertise and competence, while in theory their primary goal is tracking down Renée L’Esperance—the Haitian-born model who was the face of Mavis Beacon—and potentially finding mysterious circumstances for her reluctance to be found. But like many such documentaries, the story becomes as much about the filmmakers themselves as about their ostensible subject, and it ends up bouncing around too many different kinds of obstacles—from COVID to violation of their research space—without landing on a focus. In the course of seeking Mavis, they could also have been seeking a thesis. Available Sept. 13 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Uglies **
Return with me now to the days of the mid-2010s, when movie screens were filled with young-adult dystopias like The Hunger Games, Divergent and The Maze Runner, and this adaptation of Scott Westerfeld’s novel already would have felt lackluster and derivative. This particular troubled future involves a post-environmental-collapse society where teenagers like Tally Youngblood (Joey King) are given a procedure at age 16 that makes them aesthetically perfect versions of themselves—“Pretties”—leading to (apparently) societal bliss. But Tally learns of an outlaw faction trying to live more naturally, and eventually is sent undercover by her city’s government to try to shut them down. The metaphors here aren’t exactly subtle, even though Westerfeld might have been somewhat prescient 20 years ago recognizing the dangers of teens living through screens and only presenting themselves to the world through beautifying filters. The problem is that every component of this thing feels built on formula, from the torn-between-two-lovers dynamic for our protagonist, to the purring logic of the society’s fascist leader (Laverne Cox), seasoned with some equally generic action sequences by director McG. King is generally an engaging screen presence, but here she lacks a crucial spark of rebellious curiosity, even when the script seems to be trying to convince us it’s so. What remains feels like the sort of thing you’d flip past on cable and wonder, “Wait, is this Divergent? Or maybe The Maze Runner? Or …?” Available Sept. 13 via Netflix. (PG-13)

Will & Harper ****
There have been—and will be—many documentaries about humanizing the transgender experience, the process of transitioning, and the way others respond to those things, but it’s hard to imagine any will be simultaneously as heartfelt and as wildly entertaining as this one. Our subjects are actor Will Ferrell and his longtime friend/one-time Saturday Night Live head writer Harper Steele, who decide to take a 16-day New York-to-California road trip in the wake of Steele’s coming out as a trans woman at the age of 61. In part, it’s meant as a way for inveterate traveler of byways and backroads Harper to visit places that might not feel as safe to her now, and to director Josh Greenbaum’s credit, the movie is always forthright about the way that the presence of a celebrity on this journey provides a bit of a buffer from reality, and people who wouldn’t want to be caught on camera committing a hate crime. That doesn’t mean Will & Harper pretends anti-trans sentiment isn’t out there—a barrage of social-media comments makes that quite clear—but it feels more interested in foregrounding people who are decent, curious and (at times) deeply regretful about past behavior, including Ferrell himself, who never becomes the “isn’t it great that he’s such an ally” main character. And on top of all of that, we’re taking this trip with two extremely funny people (and occasionally their other SNL alum friends), who provide some huge laughs to complement the moments of honesty. Here’s a warm, hilarious portrait of what a real friendship looks like. Available Sept. 13 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (R)