Capsule reviews for Aug. 30

City of Dreams

As worthwhile as its message might be, this bilingual drama about the horrors of the immigrant experience doesn’t bring much new to the conversation. It follows a nonverbal Mexican teenager (Ari Lopez) with dreams of soccer stardom. When he leaves home for an elite camp in the United States, he falls victim to a trafficking operation and is subject to forced labor alongside other victims inside an illegal clothing manufacturing operation in Los Angeles. Such a scenario is horrifying, yet with its stereotypical characters and tonal inconsistencies, the film is so intent on generating righteous indignation that it forgets to tell a coherent and compelling story. (Rated R, 113 minutes).

The Falling Star

Even if you can appreciate the throwback sensibilities of Belgian filmmakers Dominique Abel and Fiona Gordon (Lost in Paris), suggesting influences from silent-film slapstick to Wes Anderson, their latest zany farce lacks narrative substance beneath the relentless quirks. The duo also stars in a crime saga of misunderstanding and revenge centering on a Brussels bar, where an armed man approaches a bartender, former activist, and longtime fugitive. This prompts a screwball chain of events involving a private detective, a dancing barmaid, and a drugged-up doppelganger. It hints at a film noir parody, yet while its intricately choreographed silliness is occasionally inspired, even audacious, it becomes tiresome. (Not rated, 98 minutes).

Merchant Ivory

There’s a celebratory quality to this affectionate documentary about the titular artistic (and romantic) partnership, and why not? The prolific tandem of producer Ismail Merchant and director James Ivory was responsible for dozens of prestige films over more than four decades, including such influential costume dramas as Howards End and The Remains of the Day during their heyday. This retrospective portrait from rookie filmmaker Stephen Soucy features interviews with Ivory and some frequent collaborators, illustrating the passion and dedication of their regular troupe, as well as the enduring influence of their work. The result is uneven yet fascinating as a behind-the-scenes peek for cinephiles. (Not rated, 112 minutes).

1992

Better at evoking time and place than telling a provocative story, this crime drama from director Ariel Vromen (The Iceman) squanders its true-life backdrop with formulaic plotting. It takes place during the onset of the Los Angeles riots, when ex-con Mercer (Tyrese Gibson) is seeking a fresh start. A search for his teenage son (Christopher Ammanuel) amid the chaos leads him back to the factory where he works — and a showdown with a father (Ray Liotta) and son (Scott Eastwood) trying to rob the place. While the film captures the tension and rage inherent in its setting, the cliché-ridden script doesn’t translate that into suspense. (Rated R, 96 minutes).

Out Come the Wolves

The titular carnivores don’t show their teeth until the second half of this off-target Canadian thriller about a hunting trip that reverses the roles of predator and prey. Instead, the bulk of the film is spent inside a remote cabin shared by Sophie (Missy Peregrym), Nolan (Damon Runyan), and Kyle (Joris Jarsky). With friction lingering over past and present relationships, they discuss masculinity and morals, along with differing levels of expertise in handling guns, knives, and crossbows. That’s tested once they venture into the nearby wilderness. However, with all of the bickering and sparring over romantic feelings, the undercard unfortunately overshadows the gory main event. (Rated R, 87 minutes).

Seeking Mavis Beacon

Searching for the titular enigma ultimately takes a backseat in this compelling documentary exploring cultural identity and appropriation, as well as online image exploitation. It follows the efforts of filmmaker Jazmin Jones to track down the woman behind Mavis Beacon, the fictional Black typing instructor from a popular 1980s software series that made millions for its creators, but what about its namesake? Investigating the character’s true identity, and subsequent disappearance, leads to an obsessive journey of self-discovery that also pays tribute to the legacy of an unlikely digital pioneer. Despite some self-indulgent tendencies and uneven detours, the film balances lighthearted absurdity with clear-eyed sincerity. (Not rated, 102 minutes).

Take My Hand

While you can appreciate the heartfelt intentions and committed performances, this earnest romantic melodrama is too persistent in its efforts to elicit tears rather than establish a deeper emotional resonance. Laura (Radha Mitchell) is a successful London investment banker with three children whose life starts to unravel after her husband dies, she loses her job, and she’s diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Moving back to her native Australia, Laura finds hope through a chance meeting with her high school sweetheart (Adam Demos). The semiautobiographical debut of director John Raftopoulos means well as Laura battles her affliction, although it’s not as powerful as intended while wallowing in sentimentality. (Not rated, 102 minutes).

The Wasp

Strong performances and intriguing character dynamics fuel the tension in this intimate British drama about repressed rage and lingering trauma. Adapted from a stage play, it focuses on Heather (Naomie Harris), whose middle-class relationship with her husband (Dominic Allburn) hits a rut before she reaches out to Carla (Natalie Dormer), a former prep-school classmate now struggling to make ends meet. They were once close before drifting apart, but Heather has a very specific business proposition for cash-strapped Carla that could change both of them forever. From there, the talky yet tightly wound screenplay shifts perspectives, cleverly unspooling some dark and unsettling twists without turning heavy-handed. (Rated R, 95 minutes).

You Gotta Believe

Unlike its true-life subjects, this formulaic underdog saga about a ragtag baseball team’s miraculous run to the Little League World Series swings and misses. Sentimentality is ingrained deep into this chronicle of a 2002 squad of preteens from Fort Worth, Texas, their reluctant lawyer coach (Greg Kinnear), and his best friend and assistant coach (Luke Wilson) who receives a terminal cancer diagnosis during the season, and whose ailment becomes inspiration for the players. The kids are charming enough and the story is inherently inspirational, although this cheesy throwback from director Ty Roberts (12 Mighty Orphans) relies on cliches while yanking aggressively at the heartstrings. (Rated PG, 104 minutes).