Capsule reviews for Oct. 16

Bad Hair

A bad hair day turns into a lifelong horror story for the protagonist in this amusing if overwrought satire from director Justin Simien (Dear White People). It takes place during the late-1980s rise of the New Jack Swing hip-hop movement, when Anna (Elle Lorraine) is trying to climb the ladder at a fledgling cable music station. Her prickly new boss (Vanessa Williams) suggests a weave to improve Anna’s image, but the hair-raising result has the locks developing killer instincts. Simien’s mildly provocative examination of Black image and gender roles tends to muddle its message, although it works better as a more straightforward, nostalgic comic thriller. (Not rated, 102 minutes).

Clouds

Despite its poignant true-life subject matter, the emotional swings feel more manipulative than authentic in the latest teenage tearjerker from director Justin Baldoni (Five Feet Apart). Zach (Fin Argus) is a Minnesota high school senior who learns his cancer has spread, leaving him just a few months to live. As a musician, he uses the diagnosis as motivation to record an album with his best friend (Sabrina Carpenter), only to realize the resulting viral fame is obscuring the inevitable. Strong performances elevate the heartfelt material above its predictable trappings, although the deliberately paced film belabors its life-affirming lessons about finding your voice and leaving your legacy. (Rated PG-13, 121 minutes).

The Devil Has a Name

Edward James Olmos makes a stylish return to the director’s chair with this wildly uneven drama that mostly squanders a first-rate cast. Inspired by true stories, it follows a widowed California farmer (David Strathairn) who discovers that water on his property is being poisoned by drilling operations by an oil conglomerate run by an unstable tycoon (Kate Bosworth). Instead of taking a piddly settlement, he hires a lawyer (Martin Sheen) for an underdog battle against corporate greed. From there, the story takes some melodramatic turns that strain credibility and obscure the urgency of the film’s social activism. The ensemble includes Haley Joel Osment and Alfred Molina. (Rated R, 97 minutes).

Harry Chapin: When in Doubt, Do Something

Like its subject, this straightforward documentary is able to tell a decent story while still carrying a tune. Chapin’s fans should appreciate the hagiographic approach to his life story, from his eccentric New York upbringing, to his musical inspirations, to his breakthrough as a folk singer with his signature 1974 hit “Cat’s in the Cradle,” to his obsession with charity concerts and other philanthropic efforts, to his tragic death. Although it needs a tighter and more objective focus, the film uncovers some intriguing behind-the-scenes tidbits, especially regarding his workaholic nature, while enabling friends such as Billy Joel and Pat Benatar to rave about his legacy. (Not rated, 93 minutes). 

The Kid Detective

Both a bittersweet examination of arrested development and a compelling murder mystery, this modest Canadian character study marks a promising debut for director Evan Morgan. It follows Abe (Adam Brody), who charmed his small town with his gumshoe skills as a child but now, at 32, is a fledgling sad sack with the same office. His chance at redemption comes when a young woman (Sophie Nelisse) asks for his help solving her boyfriend’s brutal killing, a case that forces Abe to confront his past and future. The uneven film that sometimes struggles to balance its comedic and dramatic elements, although Brody remains engaging throughout. (Rated R, 97 minutes).

The Opening Act

Aspiring stand-up comedians might be the target audience for this amusing self-reflexive comedy, but there’s enough warmth and charm to appeal to outsiders, too. Will (Jimmy O. Yang) struggles just to get a spot at open-mic nights in his small Ohio town, but gets a big-city opportunity as the fill-in weekend emcee at a club hosting his idol (Cedric the Entertainer), if only he doesn’t bomb under the pressure. Although this is hardly new cinematic territory, Yang generates sympathy with his awkward nervous energy. Fellow comic and rookie filmmaker Steve Byrne peppers the cast with improv veterans, while his heartfelt screenplay resonates with behind-the-scenes authenticity. (Not rated, 90 minutes).

She Is the Ocean

Breathtaking visuals alone would make this a worthy addition to the legacy of surfing documentaries, although the broader aim here is to profile various women, many of them pioneers in their field, who have turned their passion for the Pacific into their life’s work. They include a teenage surfing phenom, a shark conservationist, a professional cliff diver, a water-rescue paramedic, an esteemed marine biologist, and more. Some vignettes are more compelling than others, and the film’s episodic nature prevents giving some subjects the depth their stories deserve. However, the cumulative effect conveys appreciation for both the beauty and danger of humans’ relationship with our vast oceans. (Not rated, 101 minutes).

Shithouse

Leave it to a rookie filmmaker just out of college to perceptively encapsulate the awkwardness and emotional fragility of the freshman experience. Alex (Cooper Raiff) is more than 1,000 miles away from his support system for the first time, struggling to make friends, and desperately homesick. He meets an older girl (Dylan Gelula) at a party and connects during an all-night walk around campus, only to have her push him away. Raiff’s coming-of-age drama doesn’t explore new territory, but he establishes himself as a fresh voice by building empathy through gentle vulnerability and sincere humor. Even if the periphery roles lack depth, Raiff’s portrayal feels authentic. (Rated R, 101 minutes).

The State of Texas vs. Melissa

Nobody deserves the sort of shoddy judicial treatment that has landed Melissa Lucio on death row, but this unfocused documentary’s eagerness to generate sympathy for its unprincipled subject clouds its social-justice message. Lucio is a drug addict and mother of 14, one of which was killed as a toddler under mysterious circumstances that resulted in her murder charge, making her the first Latina awaiting a death sentence in Texas. The film’s argument that her case was fraught with political corruption and indifferent counseling seems to have merit, although director Sabrina Van Tassel and her skeptical interviewees don’t offer much meaningful context or persuasive evidence. (Not rated, 102 minutes).