Capsule reviews for Nov. 15

Bluebird

Like some of the best country songs, this documentary is breezy and enjoyable without providing much substance. It goes behind the scenes of Nashville’s Bluebird Cafe, an intimate venue that is best known as a launching pad for some of the genre’s most established stars and up-and-comers, too. We learn about its quirky history, meet some of the most famous musicians who’ve played there, and gain insight into its legacy. None of it will mean very much to non-fans, but aficionados should appreciate the archival footage and interviews with the likes of Garth Brooks, Taylor Swift, Vince Gill, and more. It finds an appealing rhythm. (Not rated, 83 minutes).

Everybody’s Everything

You don’t have to be familiar with Lil Peep, or the music movement known as emo rap, to find an emotional entry point into this documentary biopic that also works as a heartbreaking portrait of mental illness and the perils of celebrity. Amid family turmoil, Lil Peep became a teenage outcast and turned to music as a coping mechanism. However, as his star began to rise, the lure of drugs and alcohol, along with an army of enablers, led to his tragic downfall in 2017 at age 21. That story sounds familiar, but the film finds fresh angles through candid interviews and archival footage. (Not rated, 116 minutes).

Feast of the Seven Fishes

Apparently every cultural niche needs a dysfunctional family holiday comedy of its own. Thus we get this familiar saga set in Pittsburgh in 1983, as an extended Italian-American clan is preparing to gather for its traditional seafood feast. As an appetizer, we watch teenager Tony (Skyler Gisondo) navigate his budding romance to Beth (Madison Iseman) that’s complicated by the whims of his friends and classmates. Unlike the titular meal, there’s not much substance to the nostalgic screenplay by director Robert Tinnell, even if the ensemble cast brings a heartfelt charm to the predictable material. Yet regardless of your appetite, the result is more sour than sweet. (Not rated, 99 minutes).

Line of Duty

A potentially provocative concept becomes lost amid the predictable yet increasingly ridiculous twists in this vigilante thriller, which follows a disgraced old-school cop (Aaron Eckhart) trying to clear his name after an accidental fatal shooting by going rogue to find the chief’s kidnapped daughter. That involves battling a ruthless criminal (Ben McKenzie) and reluctantly teaming with a young online journalist (Courtney Eaton) desperate for more followers. The pace is lively, and the slick cat-and-mouse action provides some modest excitement, thanks in part to Eckhart’s committed performance. However, when it comes to police tactics and media sensationalism, the script has nothing new to say. (Rated R, 98 minutes).

Recorder: The Marion Stokes Project

You need to know who Marion Stokes is, but you won’t realize it until you’re watching this bizarre yet fascinating documentary about her obsessive and painstaking effort to become an archivist of American television. From 1975 until her untimely death in 2012, the Philadelphia social activist recorded news programs around the clock on VHS tapes with almost disturbing precision, then stored her collection inside her cramped apartment. The film ponders the motives of a paranoid hoarder who was a media junkie but also caused considerable strain on her family. That even-handed approach seems appropriate for a reclusive subject whose historical collection offers a fresh perspective today. (Not rated, 87 minutes).

Scandalous

Maybe this surface-level documentary about the checkered history of the National Enquirer captures the spirit of its subject, but that’s not necessarily a good thing if you’re looking for genuine insight. It traces the beginnings of its sleazy sensationalism to the development of its unethical journalistic practices. Along the way, the film spotlights its infamous coverage of scandals involving Princess Diana, O.J. Simpson, and more. Then, of course, comes the paper’s cozy relationship with Donald Trump. Its lighthearted approach is somewhat amusing, although the film lacks depth in exploring the rise of “fake news” or in providing many alternate viewpoints beyond a parade of former employees. (Not rated, 97 minutes).

The Shed

It turns out many of the same clichés that often populate haunted-house movies also apply to haunted-shed movies, as evidenced by this horror flick that’s strictly for genre aficionados. Stan (Jay Jay Warren) is an orphaned teenager from an abusive household whose best friend (Cody Kostro) is bullied and whose crush (Sofia Happonen) falls in with the wrong crowd. To make matters worse, a man-eating demon has taken up residence in his backyard, which makes life interesting for visitors. The social subtext doesn’t carry much weight alongside the supernatural nonsense, and it’s difficult to find sympathy for these characters who consistently lack common sense. (Not rated, 99 minutes).

The Warrior Queen of Jhansi

The true-life story of a feminist pioneer is compromised by heavy-handed clichés in this saga of political upheaval and military conflict set in 1850s India. That’s where Rani (Devika Bhise) is a young widow forced to fight to keep her late husband’s kingdom from being annexed for British colonial interests. As part of the ensuing mutiny, she trains women in swordsmanship to aid the cause. The vivid battle sequences are generally well crafted by rookie director Swati Bhise, the star’s mother. However, Rani’s courage and resilience is watered down by stock villains and wooden dialogue. The result is only sporadically moving and mildly insightful. (Rated R, 102 minutes).

Waves

Terrific performances propel this incisive glimpse into contemporary adolescence from director Trey Edward Shults (It Comes at Night), which powerfully explores toxic masculinity, opioid abuse, and how guilt and grief can tear apart a family. Tyler (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) is a high school wrestler in Miami whose severe injury causes a tragic downward spiral that affects his relationships with his girlfriend (Alexa Demie), his domineering father (Sterling K. Brown), and especially his precocious younger sister (Taylor Russell). While uneven, the screenplay avoids coming-of-age clichés while probing familiar themes in fresh and authentic ways. Bolstered by stylish visual flourishes, it’s a harrowing and provocative plea for compassion. (Rated R, 135 minutes).