Capsule reviews for Sept. 22

Barber

Although it treads familiar narrative territory, this gritty and evocative Irish thriller benefits from a solid performance by veteran character actor Aiden Gillen (“Game of Thrones”) in the title role. He plays a private investigator hired by an affluent widow (Deirdre Donnelly) frustrated by the police investigation of her granddaughter’s disappearance. The case takes Barber outside his comfort zone as he encounters some shady rogues in working-class Dublin while dealing with some turmoil in his personal life. The mystery becomes muddled and mechanical, but the film works better as a brooding, deliberately paced character study of a man who uncovers everybody else’s secrets but his own. (Not rated, 90 minutes).

Carlos

Aside from a straightforward rags-to-riches retrospective, this documentary is infused with the music of legendary guitarist Carlos Santana, adding a layer of intimacy and insight. The film explores his upbringing in Mexico, how he was influenced by his father, developing his unique blend of Latin-infused rock, his maverick approach to intersecting music and commerce in the post-Woodstock era, his notorious drug use, his crossover popularity, his eccentric philosophy, and his longevity. Narrated almost entirely by Santana himself, the film’s lack of outside context enables it to gloss over any controversy. Yet despite those hagiographic tendencies, it’s a worthwhile tribute to a cultural and artistic pioneer. (Rated R, 87 minutes).

It Lives Inside

Familiar genre tropes are explored through a fresh cultural lens in this mildly unsettling coming-of-age horror saga that probes ethnic identity and adolescent angst before settling for a conventional final act. Sam (Megan Suri) is a suburban teenager from a conservative Indian family whose falling out with best friend Tamira (Mohana Krishnan) has left the latter withdrawn and spreading claims about a demon in a jar. Before long, Sam becomes immersed in a battle to reclaim their friendship and heritage. Rookie director Bishal Dutta generates moderate frights through fear and paranoia rather than relying on visual gimmicks. However, it becomes more about atmosphere than substance. (Rated PG-13, 99 minutes).

My Sailor, My Love

Strong performances flesh out the underlying moral complexities in this modest Irish romance from director Klaus Haro (The Fencer) about grief, aging, devotion, and moving on. It’s set in a seaside village where the irascible Howard (James Cosmo), a retired sea captain in failing health, finds an unexpected spark with a widowed housekeeper (Brid Brennan). As their relationship deepens, is causes friction with Howard’s daughter (Catherine Walker), a nurse whose life has simultaneously become unstable, causing her to project hostility toward her father. Despite some melodramatic contrivances, the film complements its lovely visual backdrop with a touching examination of mortality and fragile family bonds. (Not rated, 102 minutes).

Neither Confirm Nor Deny

Giving fresh relevance to an obscure piece of Cold War history, this fascinating documentary about international espionage and bureaucratic subterfuge from 50 years ago plays out like an urgent thriller. Through anecdotes and archival footage, it recounts a covert CIA effort to steal a sunken Soviet nuclear submarine from the Pacific Ocean floor. The operation spanned years, involved billionaire Howard Hughes amid a massive coverup to prevent leaks to the Russians or the media, and culminated in 1974 during the height of the Watergate scandal. As it fills in the gaps, the film yields an intriguing probe of government transparency, classified documents, and press freedoms. (Not rated, 93 minutes).

No One Will Save You

As it stylishly subverts genre conventions, this gimmicky horror saga finds its creepy dystopian premise stretched at feature length. Brynn (Kaitlyn Dever), a lonely young woman traumatized by tragedy, finds her home invaded by aliens who begin to terrorize her. With neighbors unwilling to help, the invaders begin to multiply, forcing Brynn to become more resilient and resourceful to discover their motives and plot an escape. With almost no dialogue, Dever (Booksmart) communicates shrewdly through body language and facial expressions. However, the screenplay by director Brian Duffield (Spontaneous) withholds so much context that it diminishes suspense and tests the limits of our emotional investment. (Rated PG-13, 93 minutes).

The Origin of Evil

Although it never fulfills its loftier Hitchcockian ambitions, this twisty French thriller offers an amusing mix of character-driven intrigue and sharp-tongued socioeconomic satire. It begins with struggling factory worker Stephane (Laure Calamy) trying to reconnect with the father (Jacques Weber) who abandoned her years earlier. She arrives with cloudy motives at his seaside mansion, only to find that the women in his affluent new family are not welcoming. As secrets are revealed, Calamy (Full Time) provides an emotional anchor in an otherwise uneven exploration of fractured family dynamics from director Sebastien Marnier (School’s Out) that unspools some narrative surprises at the expense of deeper emotional impact. (Rated R, 123 minutes).

Relax, I’m From the Future

The energy is infectious but the laughs are in shorter supply in this science-fiction comedy that sometimes seems as confused as its protagonist. Toying with the conventions of time-travel sagas, the film tracks Casper (Rhys Darby) as he lands in present-day Toronto in a spacesuit, claiming to be chronologically lost. Perpetually upbeat, he befriends a depressed nightclub promoter (Gabrielle Graham) before details begin to emerge about where he’s from and why he’s here, and how he might alter the future. The screenplay by rookie director Luke Higginson overloads on quirks and predictable fish-out-of-water gags, and its one-joke premise can’t sustain its momentum at feature length. (Not rated, 92 minutes).

The Storms of Jeremy Thomas

More of a visual essay than a comprehensive portrait, this documentary about Oscar-winning producer Jeremy Thomas provides some compelling insider insight for those who fit within its narrow audience scope. The film is told from the perspective of director Mark Cousins (The Eyes of Orson Welles) an unabashed fan who explores recurring themes such as cars, sex, and death in some of Thomas’ collaborations with filmmakers such as David Cronenberg, Bernardo Bertolucci, and Nicolas Roeg. It avoids personal details or background context to focus solely on its subject’s films, in the process persuasively saluting Thomas as a maverick and champion of projects that take risks. (Not rated, 94 minutes).