Capsule reviews for May 6

Escape the Field

The concept surpasses the payoff in this mildly taut psychological thriller that might work better as a video game than a feature-length film. Instead, the suspense never ratchets up as intended as six strangers find wake up in a cornfield, uncertain of how they got there or how to escape. As they reluctantly learn to trust one another, they try to decipher how the random items they’ve been given — a gun, a compass, and more — can help them survive. While the inevitable twists provide some intrigue, the thinly sketched characters don’t yield much rooting interest in who gets out alive. The puzzle is not worth solving. (Rated R, 88 minutes).

Happening

With women’s reproductive rights a perpetual hot-button topic, this gut-wrenching French coming-of-age drama set in the 1960s takes on added relevance today. Anne (Anamaria Vartolomei) is a college student and aspiring writer with big dreams for her future, until an unplanned pregnancy creates an obstacle. With abortions illegal in France at the time, and doctors unwilling to provide the solution she seeks, Anne’s desperation triggers a dangerous downward spiral. Based on Annie Ernaux’s memoir and directed with compassionate urgency by Audrey Diwan (Losing It), the film’s unflinching approach makes certain scenes difficult to watch. Yet bolstered by Vartolomei’s audaciously committed portrayal, it’s even harder to ignore. (Rated R, 99 minutes).

Respect the Jux

Any cultural significance is compromised by the formulaic nature of this gritty crime thriller, which doesn’t offer much outside of a certain scrappy energy. It attempts to explore the cracks in the American Dream through the story of a Jamaican teenager (Jaime Lincoln Smith) who flees the gang life in his homeland in favor of a fresh start with his family in New York. But he can’t escape his violent past. Although it strives for authenticity — especially in its depiction of ruthless Jamaican street life — the uneven screenplay by rookie director G.H. Goba trades emotional depth for genre cliches. The wobbly production values don’t help. (Not rated, 111 minutes).

The Sanctity of Space

No matter their frequency, mountaineering documentaries consistently produce spectacular visuals that reflect the contrasting beauty and danger of their remote settings. This example is no different, as it chronicles the efforts of filmmakers and veteran climbers Renan Ozturk and Freddie Wilkinson to retrace the steps of renowned photographer Brad Washburn, who decades earlier captured a perilous Alaskan passage known as the Tooth Traverse. The film struggles to dramatically balance the parallel stories of climbs past and present, especially on a personal level, although the film finds a natural enthrallment in the resilience and determination of the directing tandem in fulfilling their quest while honoring a pioneer. (Not rated, 101 minutes).

Shepherd

Generating more questions than answers, this slow-burning British psychological thriller lacks the consistent tension to match its foreboding atmosphere. Looking for solitude to process his grief over his wife’s death, Eric (Tom Hughes) takes a mysterious job as a shepherd on a remote Scottish island essentially cut off from the outside world. The isolation becomes overwhelming as Eric experiences hallucinations about his mother (Greta Scacchi) and his tragic past while contending with the creepy and claustrophobic surroundings. Hughes is convincing while acting mostly by himself, but the screenplay by Welsh director Russell Owen (Inmate Zero) too often feels contrived as it dabbles in supernatural nonsense. (Rated R, 104 minutes).

Vortex

Employing only a fraction of his usual array of technical trickery and narrative inflammation, French provocateur Gaspar Noe (Enter the Void) showcases his versatility with a relentlessly bleak yet emotionally rich story of an elderly couple preparing to die. Noe’s use of split screens transcends mere gimmickry in chronicling a former psychiatrist (Francoise Lebrun) suffering from Alzheimer’s while sharing a Paris apartment with her longtime husband and caretaker (Dario Argento), a writer suffering from various ailments, and adult son (Alex Lutz). The nonchalant and often mundane depiction of their deterioration is both aggressively downbeat and quietly profound. Meanwhile, the compassionate performances add layers of depth and conviction. (Not rated, 142 minutes).