Capsule reviews for March 31

The Blackcoat’s Daughter

An unsettling atmosphere of dread and despair sets the tone for this otherwise muddled horror saga that takes place at a remote female boarding school, where sharp-tongued senior Rose (Lucy Boynton) and timid freshman Katherine (Kiernan Shipka) are stranded in the dorms because of a mix-up during a winter break. As they wait to be picked up at the creepy campus, a young woman (Emma Roberts) harboring a secret is heading their way. Rookie director Osgood Perkins avoids genre clichés and cheap scare tactics, but despite some intriguing characters and concepts, his slow-burning approach instead doesn’t offer enough chills as it builds to a mild payoff. (Rated R, 93 minutes).

Carrie Pilby

You feel for the title character in this otherwise forgettable comedy, an insufferably condescending former child prodigy in Manhattan who openly flaunts her intelligence. That’s a credit to Bel Powley (The Diary of a Teenage Girl), who finds the vulnerability in the title role, as Carrie berates her therapist (Nathan Lane) while trying to establish relationships with various men in her life and also reconcile with her estranged father (Gabriel Byrne). Meanwhile, details are gradually revealed about the sources of her bitterness and isolation. Carrie needs a better movie, but Powley finds just enough authenticity amid the minefield of narrative contrivances to make the film worthwhile. (Not rated, 98 minutes).

Cezanne and I

Artistic types might appreciate this period drama about the decades-long friendship between eccentric French painter Paul Cezanne (Guillaume Gallienne) and demanding novelist Emile Zola (Guillaume Canet), flashing back to moments both joyous and tempestuous as each man tries to navigate relationships and find his place in the post-impressionist art landscape during the late 1900s. Both lead performances are convincing, and the French landscapes are breathtaking. However, the affectionate yet deliberately paced screenplay by director Daniele Thompson fails to convince us that either man is more compelling than his work, despite its best efforts. While listening to pretentious banter, we’re missing out on the best part. (Rated R, 115 minutes).

The Death of Louis XIV

It was of the long and painful variety for the 17th century French king (Jean-Pierre Reaud), but not as much so for viewers of this stylish but tedious chronicle of his final days from Spanish auteur Albert Serra (Birdsong). The film generates some mild amusement through its droll mocking of the pomposity that marked the declining health during the concluding weeks of the monarch’s seven-decade reign, which were marked by doting doctors and servants chronicling his every medical malady. Despite some visual flair and modest historical insight, a film singularly focused on the lugubrious actions of a mostly bedridden man struggles to avoid such lethargy itself. (Not rated, 115 minutes).

Here Alone

Lacking sufficient frights for horror aficionados and enough futuristic inventiveness for science-fiction buffs, this post-apocalyptic thriller winds up caught in the middle. It tracks a woman (Lucy Walters) living alone in the woods, who apparently has become separated from her family while fleeing from an epidemic that has decimated the human race. Her isolation eventually turns to hope, although not without caution. The film starts by offering a fresh twist on a familiar premise, although despite an audacious performance by Walters, it never establishes a consistent sense of tension or doom. By the time we get to the blood and gore, the emotional investment has dwindled. (Not rated, 98 minutes).