Capsule reviews for April 6

Big Fish and Begonia

Lessons of courage, sacrifice, and eternal friendship resonate throughout this ambitious animated adventure from China. It’s a coming-of-age tale taking place in an undersea world where human souls travel after death. When one of its teenage inhabitants is transported to the surface as part of a weeklong rite of passage, she becomes involved in a tragedy that leads her on an elaborate path from guilt to redemption. Behind the visual extravagance is a final act that bogs down in sentimentality and metaphysical mumbo-jumbo, rendering it practically incomprehensible in spots. Yet it’s also casually and consistently charming in ways that transcend generation gaps and cultural boundaries. (Rated PG-13, 105 minutes).

The Endless

It might leave you scratching your head, but this offbeat science-fiction thriller from the filmmaking tandem of Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead (Spring) has an ambitious vision that can’t be dismissed. The directors play siblings who are prompted by mysterious circumstances to return to the remote California commune they escaped years earlier, seeking catharsis and closure. But they quickly regret the decision when their curiosity turns dangerous. The resulting weirdness is highly uneven yet also consistently compelling, with the filmmakers demonstrating a confident visual style to supplement their incisive glimpse into cult dynamics. It holds together even as the final-act twists become more arbitrary. (Not rated, 111 minutes).

The Humanity Bureau

With all the schlock that has dotted Nicolas Cage’s filmography during the past decade, the nadir might be this hilariously inept dystopian thriller from Canada. It’s set in a near-future United States decimated by climate change, and follows a government agent (Nicolas Cage) tasked with determining which citizens are productive, and therefore worthy of remaining in the general population. As he forms an attachment to a single mother (Sarah Lind) and young child living in a remote cabin. The wooden dialogue and heavy-handed sociopolitical subtext eliminate any meaningful suspense. Yet apparently it’s meant to be taken seriously, even as the scowling villain wears an eye patch. (Rated R, 94 minutes).

Lean on Pete

Sidestepping coming-of-age clichés for an emotionally rich exploration of human isolation and equine companionship, this character-driven drama from director Andrew Haigh (45 Years) follows a cash-strapped teenage boy (Charlie Plummer) who lives with his troubled single father (Travis Fimmel) in the Pacific Northwest. He spends the summer working for a thoroughbred trainer (Steve Buscemi) and forms a bond with a washed-up horse during some tough times. This evocative adaptation of the Willy Vlautin novel provides a compassionate showcase for both its two-legged and four-legged stars — Plummer is terrific — whose moments together convey a genuine poignancy that carries the film through its narrative rough patches. (Rated R, 121 minutes).

Lowlife

Familiar themes are given a brutally fresh twist in this gritty horror debut for director Ryan Prows. Taking place in contemporary Los Angeles, it chronicles the misadventures of the desperate perpetrators — each of which personifies the title — behind a failed organ harvesting scheme. They include a human trafficker (Mark Burnham) who targets illegal immigrants, a masked luchador (Ricardo Adam Zarate) who acts as an enforcer, and others within the seedy milieu. The episodic result has style and attitude to spare, a Tarantino throwback vibe, and a quirky sense of humor, even if the lack of moral complexity in the unsympathetic characters make emotional investment difficult. (Not rated, 96 minutes).

The Miracle Season

A true-life inspirational saga is compromised by aggressive tear-jerking in this formulaic sports drama from director Sean McNamara (Soul Surfer) that consistently lacks subtlety and surprise. It’s a shame, because this wholesome effort is heartfelt if misguided. It chronicles the volleyball team at an Iowa high school that must recover emotionally and physically following a teammate’s death in an accident. Specifically, it’s up to the coach (Helen Hunt) and the victim’s best friend and replacement in the lineup (Erin Moriarty) to rally the troops. Perhaps a documentary treatment would have provided a more fitting tribute than this manipulative weeper that only serves up clichés. (Rated PG, 99 minutes).

Spinning Man

It’s more like spinning wheels, in the case of the screenplay for this muddled murder mystery that follows a college professor (Guy Pearce) with a history of alleged coed fraternizing. When a student (Odeya Rush) disappears, he becomes a suspect—denying his involvement even as clues suggest otherwise. That leads to some cat-and-mouse sparring with a determined yet open-minded detective (Pierce Brosnan). Despite its generic procedural trappings, the film spotlights strong performances, some stylish noir touches, and a moderately compelling premise. Yet it stumbles in the third act by indulging in too many incoherent twists and false endings, becoming detached from reality in the process. (Rated R, 100 minutes).

Sweet Country

The centuries-old legacy of racial injustice in Australia lingers throughout this evocative, melancholy Western from director Warwick Thornton (Samson and Delilah). It takes place amid the stark red-clay landscapes of the Outback circa 1920, when an Aboriginal slave (Hamilton Morris) kills a landowner in self-defense, only to be hunted by a vengeful posse led by a sheriff (Bryan Brown) who’s not interested in motives. While that sounds simple, there are layers of subtext that shape the story and characters, as the inherent brutality contrasts with the picturesque visual backdrop. It’s deliberately paced yet rewards patience, building to a resolution that’s both harrowing and heartbreaking. (Rated R, 113 minutes).

You Were Never Really Here

Joaquin Phoenix’s haunting performance galvanizes this bleak but powerful thriller from director Lynne Ramsay (We Need to Talk About Kevin). Phoenix plays a tormented, hammer-wielding Gulf War veteran with violent tendencies living in New York, where he’s regularly recruited to find missing children, including a teenager (Ekaterina Samsonov) whose whereabouts uncover secrets about sex trafficking and political corruption. However, Ramsay’s screenplay is more concerned with the inner struggles of her loner protagonist, toggling reality with hallucinatory flashbacks that yield plenty of disturbing imagery. The overall impact is muddled and lacking tonal consistency, yet the film is a gritty and stylish character study that’s raw and uncompromising. (Rated R, 89 minutes).