Blink **
Documentary filmmaking is ultimately a kind of journalism, and it’s always frustrating to watch documentary filmmakers who seem to have decided ahead of time what the story is, even before all the reporting is done. The clearly-inspirational premise involves French-Canadian parents Édith Lemay and Seb Pelletier who, upon learning that three of their four children have retinitis pigmentosa—a genetic condition that will eventually result in near-total blindness—decide to take the family on a year-long adventure around the world to create memories of things they might not be able to see later. Directors Daniel Roher (the Oscar-winning Navalny) and Edmund Stenson then bounce around the globe with the Pelletier/Lemay clan, pausing a bit longer in locations like Nepal and Ecuador but mostly just observing as they check items off of their extensive bucket list. The problem is that they seem so committed to presenting this as a noble endeavor that they too rarely stop to acknowledge the downsides—like 12-year-old Mia clearly seeming isolated compared to her three brothers, who can entertain one another—or allow time for understanding how the kids really feel about this experience in the moment. One extended sequence stands out by virtue of suddenly making all the “carpe diem” enthusiasm feel like the stuff of a nightmare, but it’s an isolated moment in what’s mostly an earnest, uncritical vacation video. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (PG)

A Different Man **1/2
For all the funky details in writer/director Aaron Schimberg’s psychological comedy-drama-thriller, it ultimately feels like a long walk towards a pretty simple idea. Our protagonist Edward Lemuel (Sebastian Stan) is a struggling New York actor facing perhaps a greater obstacle even than most struggling New York actors: His extreme facial deformities somewhat limit his options. When an experimental medical procedure results in a complete transformation of his appearance, however, Edward sees the opportunity to effectively start his life over again. From the outset, you can tell that Schimberg is aiming for a vibe that mixes Barton Fink-era Coen brothers with Charlie Kaufman in its surreal imagery and occasional deadpan humor, augmented by a terrific Umberto Smerilli score. But as the story transitions into its second half—and Edward begins to confront not just what his new face has gained him, but what it has cost him—there’s not much deeper thematic material to keep the story popping. The terrific performance by Under the Skin’s Adam Pearson emphasizes the idea that you are, ultimately, who you are, and that some limitations are all about how you choose to approach them—and by the time you’ve latched on to the likelihood that the title is meant ironically, there isn’t a whole lot left but waiting for the other ironies to get progressively over-the-top. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (R)

Girls Will Be Girls ***1/2
As much as writer/director Suchi Talati explores a female coming-of-age narrative with some cultural specificity, she also finds something more universal in the way tensions between adolescent girls and their mothers are tangled up in matters of female desirability. At the outset, that’s not the primary thing on the mind of Mira Kashore (Preeti Panigrahi), a high-achieving year-12 student at an Indian boarding school—of which her mother, Anila (Kani Kusruti), is also an alum—who has just become the school’s first-ever female Head Prefect. But academics start to seem a little less important when transfer student Sri (Kesav Binoy Kiron) catches her eye. Talati grounds the tale in the cultural expectations of this particular place, including gendered assumptions about appropriate behavior. But the real complexity involves the relationship between Mira and Anila, and the mother’s almost flirtatious behavior towards the boy she insists Mira should not have as her own boyfriend. Talati deftly handles the material that addresses Mira’s growing sexual curiosity—it’s a perfect touch that this studious girl would want to do online research regarding how to have sex so she would do it “right”—and Panigrahi’s performance hits every note of desire, jealousy and uncertainty with a perfect pitch. Ultimately, though, it’s a lovely exploration of how complicated it can be for teenage girls and their mothers to reach the point where they can simply be mother and daughter, and not somehow competitors. Available Oct. 4 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Joker: Folie à Deux **1/2
I’ll give Todd Phillips this: His follow-up to the 2019 hit Joker may not be good, but at least it’s not good in a way I did not remotely see coming. Sure, he’s got Joaquin Phoenix returning to his Oscar-winning role as disturbed, homicidal clown Arthur Fleck, but beyond that superficial connection, Phillips seems almost pathologically committed to making something that fans of the original should hate. In part, that sensibility is connected to taking the bare bones of a plot—Fleck in Arkham Asylum awaiting his murder trial, and his romance with Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga)—and turning it into a full-fledged musical, set to pop tunes (“For Once in My Life,” “Close to You”) and old chestnuts (“That’s Entertainment,” “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered”). And unlike the original, which fussed in self-seriousness despite not having a point to match the ones on the emaciated Phoenix’s shoulder blades, this one at least seems to be taking the piss out of everyone trying to turn this violent, haunted creature into a folk hero. Phillips isn’t a deft enough writer or filmmaker to fully pull off his gambit, unfortunately, as his musical production numbers lack the panache of someone who could swing for the fences and actually get one out of the ballpark, and he’s left leaning on Phoenix’s 100 percent commitment to the bit, including doing an exaggerated Southern courtroom lawyer drawl. It’s not pointed or smart enough as a takedown of misguided hero-worship, but there’s something perversely admirable about making a sequel that attacks the main reason that it exists. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (R)

Monster Summer **
At the outset, it feels like director David Henrie (best-known as an actor from Wizards of Waverly Place and How I Met Your Mother) and screenwriters Bryan Schulz and Cornelius Uliano are out to make a nostalgic kidventure along the lines of The Goonies, as middle-schooler Noah (Mason Thames) and his friends on Martha’s Vineyard circa 1997 begin investigating whether strange incidents involving local youth might be connected to the arrival of a literal witch. They hit that vibe occasionally, but also want to fold the possibly-supernatural shenanigans into a surrogate dad/surrogate son friendship between recently-fatherless Noah and a solitary ex-cop (Mel Gibson) who helps Noah with his investigations, or a metaphor about child predators as monsters. And then they’ll occasionally take a sharp turn from youth-friendly scares to material that’s genuinely terrifying, like a videotape that begins delivering a haunting message. The result doesn’t allow for a focus on any of the individually promising elements, like the intensity of friendships at this age—part of what drove the impact of Stephen King’s It, which is clearly a major influence—or a sense for who the audience for this movie is actually meant to be. Gibson provides a solid anchor, but this is all too clunky and sprawling to work as any of the many things it’s trying to be at the same time. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (PG-13)

The Outrun ***
The changes that director/co-screenwriter Nora Fingscheidt makes to Amy Liptrot’s recovery memoir feel weirdly arbitrary, but the result is still an effective drama about personal growth and a sense of place, anchored by a terrific lead performance. Saoirse Ronan plays Rona, a 29-year-old native of Scotland’s Orkney Islands who returns home to the family farm after bottoming out in her alcoholism and going through an outpatient program. Fingscheidt weaves back and forth through time, flashing back both to Rona’s childhood marked by her father’s bipolar disorder, and to the out-of-control life that eventually costs her an important romantic relationship, and the fractured chronology effectively captures someone trying to process the past and get out from under the weight of it. It’s a bit less clear why Fingscheidt feels the need to change the protagonist’s name to an anagram of her own, while punching up the melodrama of the story by giving Rona a falling-off-the-wagon episode that never happened dampens the sense that her recovery is connected to reconnecting with her origins. Still, Ronan plays both the externally chaotic and internally struggling versions of Rona with her usual dynamism, and Fingscheidt beautifully incorporates the geography and meteorology of the Orkneys into an affecting character study, even if it’s one where I wished we got more of the actual character who inspired it. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (R)

White Bird ***
IfWhite Bird had been released two years ago as originally planned, at a time where this particular story didn’t feel so relevant and urgent, it might come off as more preachy and mawkish—but, well, here we are, with its message feeling particularly vital, and the delivery generally satisfying. It adapts the 2019 graphic novel by R. J. Palacio, itself a spiritual sequel to Palacio’s Wonder, with Bryce Gheisar reprising his role from the film version of Wonder as Julian, who once bullied Wonder’s Auggie. Now starting over at a new school, Julian learns from his grandmother Sara (Helen Mirren) about her experience as a Jewish girl (Arielle Glaser) in occupied France, kept in hiding by a classmate named Julien (Orlando Schwerdt) and his family. While there certainly is suspense and an acknowledgement of the suffering experienced in its setting, director Marc Forster leans into the budding romance between Sara and Julien in a way that feels warm and charming without soft-pedaling the Holocaust. The result is a narrative that foregrounds the value of kindness and standing up for those being scapegoated and attacked by demagogues and bigots, and why does this sound far too necessary right now. Screenwriter Mark Bomback’s finale lays the homilies on a bit thick, which feels unnecessary when the rest of White Bird offers the same principles with a gentler touch. Available Oct. 4 in theaters. (PG-13)