Madeline’s Madeline – 7

An innovative and rather intense look inside the mind of a 16-year-old biracial girl (Helena Howard), who comes in and out of focus, both literally and figuratively. Actually, more interesting is her relationships with, or maybe it is just her views of, two white mother figures, played adroitly by Molly Parker and Miranda July, whose vulnerability builds as Madeline’s feline ferocity strengthens. Then there is the bizarre improvisational theater troupe, which seems absurd but maybe is what they do in Brooklyn.

Three Identical Strangers – 6

Maybe it’s just that I wasn’t shocked, or even surprised, that 45 years ago someone engineered a study of twins separated at birth, or that an adoption agency wouldn’t tell the adoptive parents about the twins, or that one of the reunited triplets would eventually go his own way and have emotional issues, or maybe it’s just that I didn’t enjoy spending time with this particular group of people. For whatever reason, despite its constantly noted self-importance, the film left me cold. What most struck me, in fact, was the media’s obsession with the story of the triplets, how they piled on, one after the other. And it’s hard to imagine so much being made of this today; were the early ’80s just simpler times?

The King – 8.5

The King tells a story of America over the last 60 years using the life of Elvis Presley as its metaphor. From an era of innocence and authenticity and world-shaking change, we progress, or regress, to bloated stagnation with money the only goal, from Tupelo to Las Vegas. But director Eugene Jarecki doesn’t preach; he lays out a visual and musical buffet from which the viewer can pick and choose and to which, I suspect, one could return for seconds. I have been a diehard Elvis fan since 1955, so the shots of him performing “Don’t Be Cruel” and talking with his eyes twinkling would have almost been enough for me. The social commentary by Elvis scholars and critics added a second, provocative layer. Another thread was the musical vignettes, with performers, often obscure to me, singing in the backseat of Elvis’s 1963 Rolls-Royce. Without any announcement, they covered the spectrum of music that colored America around Elvis: the blues, country, Americana, rock, surf, gospel, torch, even early hip-hop. The car itself was a character: it helped tell the story as it drove from Tupelo to Memphis to Nashville to New York to Hollywood to Vegas. Jarecki, too, appeared on camera, never obtrusive but enough to offer us a way into the picture. There were talking heads who didn’t have obvious connections to Elvis or music – Alec Baldwin, Mike Meyers, Van Jones, Ethan Hawke – but again expanded the movie’s horizon beyond specialists. In the background, archival clips reminded us of what else was going on: Martin Luther King, Vietnam, Muhammad Ali, juxtaposed with flashes of Donald Trump and the 2016 election. When Elvis, in a final performance, lets loose on “Unchained Melody,” we don’t know whether to believe there is still power and life in the mess we’ve made, or whether this is the last extravagant bloom for a hemorrhaging society.

First Reformed – 7

This will win the award for darkest film of the year (I hope). Ethan Hawke was riveting, although I wish he had had a bit more presence to begin with. He never seemed to fill his pastoral robes, so didn’t convince me of what he used to have been. We came upon him already subject to doubts and well into the bottle. Was that really a Neil Young song they sang at the eco-terrorist’s funeral? – it was. Would he really have known how to detonate a suicide vest? – we’ll never know. Like a polluted river, the movie split into four or five conceivable endings as it reached the delta, but that’s not where we were supposed to focus.

RBG – 7.5

For the first half, I thought, what a true American hero Ruth Ginsberg is, and what a wonderful support was her husband. I wanted to pair her documentary up with Itzhak Perlman’s for a heartwarming celebration of goodness and excellence. Once Martin Ginsburg died, and once Ruth ascended the high court, however, things sort of petered out. Maybe it’s because you can’t film in the Supreme Court, maybe because she was in the minority and couldn’t make law, or maybe it was just that she had reached the peak and she was being honored and lionized over and over, but for whatever reason my tears dried up and I wished the film had been twenty minutes shorter.

The Rider – 6.5

A good film to discover, unheralded, at a small film festival – not something to be seen at CityCinema3 in Manhattan. The amateur acting is remarkably good, but occasionally painful; the shots of horses are welcome, except when the horse is literally shot; and the scenes of the West are surprisingly plain. The story, as one reviewer noted, is “how we deal with the hand we are dealt.” It’s a quiet movie, with a lot of longeurs.

Black Panther – 7.9

Is it okay to say you liked this movie because it gave such good roles to such talented and beautiful black actors, while whites were assigned the roles of bad guy and token helper? Breaking another stereotype, the women were strong and smart, more convincing than in Wonder Woman. The message was uplifting, cinematography gorgeous and costumes provided a mini-course in African art. On the minus side, the action scenes went on too long for me, and the story had major improbabilities, such as the planet’s most technologically advanced society choosing its ruler based on hand-to-hand combat. When all was done, I felt good, as well as entertained.

Game Night – 7.5

Tremendously appealing actors – Justin Bateman and Rachel McAdams – star in a game of a movie full of twists and turns that make for a fun evening.

Leaning Into the Wind – 7

A worthy sequel to Rivers and Tides, although its novelty and relative innocence made that one more memorable. Andy Goldsworthy’s art subverts nature as much as celebrates it, but when he connects it’s a home run. I would have appreciated more art and fewer extended close-ups of the artist; the appearance of his attractive daughter was a relief. Despite all the talking, I don’t really feel that I got inside the artist or his art.

Death of Stalin – 3

An Absurdist take on Soviet history that left us wondering, Is this the worst movie we will see this year? We expected funny, but it never showed up. Steve Buscemi as Khrushchev was absurd, of course, but to what point? Making a farce out of executions in a police state makes for queasy viewing, and the uninteresting, unpleasant characters hardly helped.