Capsule reviews for July 23

Ailey

So enigmatic as a person, and so brilliant as an artist, dance pioneer Alvin Ailey makes a natural documentary subject. And although this immersive portrait seems to gloss over biographical tidbits, it sufficiently captures the spirit of its subject. Using an extended archival interview with the late choreographer to narrate his own story, the bittersweet film traces his life and career, as he gravitated toward the expressive nature of dance, then found a creative outlet through some of his most important works prior to his 1989 death of AIDS-related complications. The film lacks insight into Ailey’s private life, although it gracefully salutes his influence and legacy. (Rated PG-13, 82 minutes).

All the Streets Are Silent

For those in Generation X, this immersive documentary subtitled “The Convergence of Hip-Hop and Skateboarding (1987-1997)” is a nostalgic treasure trove. It’s set on the streets of New York, during a particularly volatile time when both art forms simultaneously transitioned from underground to mainstream popularity, in part because of their shared ability to break down racial and social barriers. Rookie director Jeremy Elkin covers the expected cultural touchstones, breakthrough brands, and influential personalities through an impressive mix of archival footage and interviews. While depth and broader context are sometimes lacking for outsiders, the film is both a spirited and bittersweet tribute to a bygone era. (Not rated, 89 minutes).

Broken Diamonds

An overreliance on quirks and contrivances prevents this comedy from yielding much fresh insight into mental illness or fractured family dynamics. The labored setup finds writer Scott (Ben Platt) set to move to France just after his father died and his schizophrenic older sister (Lola Kirke) is released from an inpatient clinic. Her illness has driven the siblings apart, mostly because Scott refuses to come to terms. But when she stops taking her meds, he’s forced to make a decision that could jeopardize his future for hers. Heartfelt intentions can’t rescue an uneven film that struggles to navigate tricky emotional territory and its own tonal shifts. (Rated PG-13, 90 minutes).

Jolt

Style overwhelms substance in this high-energy thriller about a kick-ass heroine more adept at fighting humans than a thinly sketched script. Lindy (Kate Beckinsale) was born with a disorder that causes violent outbursts coupled with superhuman strength. After a psychiatrist (Stanley Tucci) gives her an electric device to control her impulsive rage, she tries to live a normal life. But when tragedy strikes her new boyfriend (Jai Courtney), Lindy’s instincts take over as she seeks revenge. Although director Tanya Wexler (Hysteria) brings kinetic excitement to some of the set pieces, the film settles into an uninspired cat-and-mouse vigilante framework reliant on tired action tropes. (Rated R, 91 minutes).

Mandibles

For those on the same absurdist wavelength, the latest screwball silliness from French provocateur Quentin Dupieux (Deerskin) provides some hearty laughs and offbeat charm. It follows a pair of bumbling small-time crooks (Gregoire Ludig and David Marsais) who steal a car that happens to have a giant fly in the trunk. Rather than free it, they attempt to “train” it for some quick cash, which results in all sorts of misadventures. More broadly outrageous than many of Dupieux’s earlier works, this amusing trifle finds its rhythm by finding sympathy in its endearing characters rather than mocking them. Plus, the oversized insect is a natural scene-stealer. (Not rated, 77 minutes).

Midnight in the Switchgrass

“This is gonna be bad,” correctly forecasts an FBI agent (Bruce Willis) early in this formulaic potboiler about murder and human trafficking among sleazy types in the Florida panhandle. That’s where a federal agent (Megan Fox) and a local police detective (Emile Hirsch) lead an investigation after a handful of young women are kidnapped. Among the suspects are a trucker (Lukas Haas) and a pimp (Colson Baker). As much as the directorial debut of producer Randall Emmett adheres to cliches, its main problems are structural, opting for parallel stories of the criminals and those trying to find them. Any meaningful suspense is lost in the shuffle. (Rated R, 99 minutes).

Playing with Sharks

Underwater explorer Valerie Taylor’s life and career provide ideal source material for a documentary, and although this tribute doesn’t dive deep enough, just hitting the highlights proves sufficient. Taylor is an Australian pioneer of marine videography from her work with sharks alongside her late husband in the 1960s. That led to a consulting gig on the blockbuster Jaws, and eventually a shift to conservation after the film’s anti-shark public backlash. As directed by Sally Aitken, the film benefits from the charisma of Taylor herself, now in her 80s, as well as her gorgeous archival footage, weaving together a fascinating portrait that’s both educational and endearing. (Not rated, 95 minutes).

Settlers

Amid the bleak landscape and oppressive circumstances, some intriguing character dynamics drive this deliberately paced science-fiction drama about colonialism and isolation. Among the first humans to settle on Mars, 9-year-old Remmy (Brooklynn Prince) is kept safe from outside dangers by her parents. Yet after her father’s disappearance, her mother (Sofia Boutella) reluctantly allows another man (Ismael Cruz Cordova) to take his place, which interrupts their lifestyle in unexpected ways. Both sprawling and intimate, the muddled screenplay by rookie director Wyatt Rockefeller can be frustrating in its withholding of key details, although the powerfully understated performances provide a sense of humanity amid the desolation and despair. (Not rated, 103 minutes).

Val

Eccentric actor Val Kilmer can barely speak these days — a byproduct of his battle with throat cancer in recent years — yet he still has plenty to say. Fortunately, this documentary gives him a fresh voice mostly through his own archive of behind-the-scenes videos he’s shot throughout his career. The footage, ably assembled by directors Leo Scott and Ting Poo, hits the highlights of a Hollywood career spanning more than four decades, and also yields a glimpse into artistic aspects of Kilmer we don’t often see. Those layers of candor and vulnerability, aided by narration from his son Jack, help the film rise above conventional trappings. (Rated R, 109 minutes).