Capsule reviews for Feb. 8

Everybody Knows

Some familiar territory for Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) yields a fresh and provocative examination of domestic strife and socioeconomic class. It’s set in Spain, where Laura (Penelope Cruz) returns from Argentina for her sister’s wedding, only to find secrets from her past resurfacing just as a family member turns up missing, leaving Laura and a longtime family friend (Javier Bardem) searching for answers. After a muddled beginning, the deliberately paced film ties together its characters and disparate genre elements in mostly unexpected ways, while the top-notch cast further bolsters the suspense and tightens the emotional pull on this story of a family in crisis. (Rated R, 133 minutes).

The Gospel of Eureka

Even the most cynical contemporary social critics can find optimism in this crowd-pleasing documentary about the Arkansas mountain town of Eureka Springs, which — in addition to its famous “healing waters” — has seen its history as a right-wing Christian outpost mesh with a burgeoning LGBTQ community. Their coexistence is the primary focus of the film, which gives both sides their chance to sound off, only to find that residents and visitors alike are generally eager to set their differences aside in favor of peace and harmony. Perhaps there’s an opportunity missed for a more broad-based political discussion, but that’s beside the point of this celebration of inclusion. (Not rated, 75 minutes).

The Isle

This stylish, low-key mix of fantasy and horror sidesteps genre clichés by not bombarding viewers with supernatural nonsense or gratuitous special effects. However, what’s left is only modestly suspenseful and sporadically compelling, in the case of a remote island off the Scottish coast where in 1846, three sailors wash ashore in a leaky fishing boat. The locale, with its population of four eccentrics, isn’t especially welcoming, eventually leading to desperation as the hopes of rescue dwindle. The story, which is inspired by folklore and Greek mythology, isn’t steered in the most obvious direction, yet it’s ultimately more menacing for its creepy atmosphere than anything else. (Not rated, 96 minutes).

Lords of Chaos

Technical proficiency is more noteworthy than narrative dexterity in this mildly insightful glimpse into the 1980s musical subgenre known as Norwegian black metal. Specifically, the story focuses on a teenage pioneer (Rory Culkin) of the movement that promoted violence and death. After some initial success, he forms a rivalry with a fan-turned-collaborator (Emory Cohen) that tests his artistic commitment. The evocative visuals from veteran music-video director Jonas Akerlund supplement some committed portrayals, especially in the unsettling performance sequences. However, like its characters and their art, the film winds up little more than an oddball curiosity that rarely digs beneath the surface of its shock value. (Rated R, 117 minutes).

The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot

That man is Calvin (Sam Elliott), the war veteran who steers us through a highly uneven yet quietly poignant saga of regret and redemption that defies the B-movie expectations suggested by the title. Rookie director Robert Krzykowski perpetrates this switcheroo with his nonlinear screenplay that uses his high-stakes takedowns of the Nazi leader and the mythical yeti as a method of introducing an introspective character study. Elliott’s carefully modulated portrayal of a hard-edged and morally conflicted hero brings sympathy to a man, recruited from retirement by the American government for an unlikely task, whose personal lives and professional missions are both secretive and efficient. (Not rated, 98 minutes).

The Prodigy

A handful of creepy goings-on can’t save the latest assembly-line exercise in child-possession horror. In this case, the 8-year-old kiddo is Miles (Jackson Robert Scott), whose escalating bizarre behavior raises red flags with his mother (Taylor Schilling). She must reconcile her love for her only child with the fact that a psychiatrist (Colm Feore) suspects that his body is being taken over by a recently deceased violent criminal seeking revenge. That doesn’t reveal too many spoilers, not that most viewers won’t be able to piece the basics together well before they unfold. The result is only mildly unsettling as its second-half twists gradually become more far-fetched. (Rated R, 92 minutes).

To Dust

Effective both as a poignant examination of faith and grief, and an amusing glimpse into the absurdities of scientific obsession, this sharp debut for director Shawn Snyder adeptly balances disparate tones. It follows a devoutly Hasidic cantor (Geza Rohrig) who struggles with Jewish customs for mourning his wife’s death. He becomes haunted by her body’s decomposition, and enlists the help of a beleaguered science professor (Matthew Broderick) to help ensure her corpse is preserved for as long as possible after burial. Bolstered by a pair of strong performances, the deliberately paced film transitions into an odd-couple buddy comedy while remaining true to its character-driven roots. (Rated R, 92 minutes).

Under the Eiffel Tower

A familiar setting yields a modestly fresh romantic comedy that finds some character-driven charm when its clumsy narrative contrivances stay out of the way. Stuart (Matt Walsh) is a recently fired executive whose midlife crisis takes him to Paris, where his failed marriage proposal to a friend’s daughter leads to an odyssey involving a stranger (Reid Scott) on a train heading to the wine country. However, romantic complications involving an alluring vineyard manager (Judith Godreche) threaten to derail their friendship. In a rare leading role, Walsh (“Veep”) conveys a convincing mix of awkwardness and sincerity amid the expected scenic and culinary highlights in the French countryside. (Not rated, 87 minutes).

Untogether

Angst-ridden millennials whining about relationships and religion definitely need to get it together in this uninspired ensemble drama set against the backdrop of the Hollywood music scene. That’s where Tara (Lola Kirke) watches her passion dwindle for a rock-star wannabe (Ben Mendelsohn) while taking guidance from a politically motivated rabbi (Billy Crystal). Meanwhile, Tara’s sister (Jemima Kirke) is struggling with commitment issues involving her affluent author boyfriend (Jamie Dornan). The shallow screenplay by rookie director Emma Forrest emphasizes eccentricities over genuine character development, and leaves little room for emotional investment in their outcomes. It seems they never connect — with each other or with the audience. (Rated R, 98 minutes).

A Violent Man

A thoughtful character-driven thriller is buried somewhere beneath the clichés that eventually overwhelm this uneven mixed-martial arts melodrama. It follows Ty (former NFL running back Thomas Q. Jones), a fledgling fighter whose surprise knockdown of a world champion (Chuck Liddell) during a sparring session leads to all kinds of problems. The champ’s manager (Bruce Davison) tries to blackmail him, a reporter (Denise Richards) winds up dead, and his girlfriend (Khalilah Joi) is suspicious of Ty’s indiscretions. The film is rough around the edges and lacks the narrative punch to flesh out its ambitious ideas, although Jones manages a captivating screen presence to match his intimidating physique. (Not rated, 107 minutes).