Capsule reviews for Jan. 16

The Confession

Despite an intriguing premise, this atmospheric supernatural thriller becomes a muddled exploration of folklore, faith, socioeconomic strife, and fractured family dynamics. The story is a twist on the legend of the Pied Piper, following a struggling musician (Italia Ricci) who moves back into her childhood home, where she discovers a recording of her late preacher father confessing to a murder he committed to protect his family from sinister forces. Then her young son (Zachary Golinger) began acting strangely, suggesting that the evil hasn’t completely vanished. Enhanced by some haunting visual flourishes, the screenplay by director Will Canon (Demonic) nevertheless relies on jump scares and uninspired tropes. (Not rated, 87 minutes).

Night Patrol

While admirably attempting to subvert genre tropes, this horror-infused crime thriller has style and attitude to spare, although the ambition exceeds its narrative grasp. It follows an ex-gang member-turned-young LAPD cop (Jermaine Fowler), who wants to join his partner (Justin Long) on an overnight task force targeted at eradicating inner-city violence. But secrets lurk both within the department and on the streets that enable sinister elements to threaten his brother (R.J. Cyler) and mother (Nicki Micheaux). Amid some ultraviolent twists, the film stumbles in trying to keep its convoluted mythology grounded in its gritty urban milieu. The resulting subtext feels is more muddled than provocative. (Rated R, 104 minutes).

A Private Life

Jodie Foster’s playfully wily performance outshines the uneven script in this slight French caper, in which the silliness overwhelms the suspense. Foster plays Lillian, an acclaimed psychiatrist whose personal and professional lives enter a downward spiral after the death of a patient. While the woman’s father (Mathieu Amalric) suspects suicide and blames Lillian, she suspects foul play and scours her confidential recordings for clues. After some soul-searching, Lillian is also prompted to reconcile her relationships with her ex-husband (Daniel Auteuil) and son (Vincent Lacoste). The film features a handful of amusing twists as the mystery is sorted out, yet it never adds up to much. (Rated R, 103 minutes).

Signing Tony Raymond

Maybe it deserves credit for trying to tackle the cesspool of contemporary college football recruiting, but this comedy is too detached from reality to score either as a broad lampoon or an underdog crowd-pleaser. It centers on an idealistic assistant coach (Michael Mosley) sent to lure an elite defensive end (Jackie Kay) that could save his job. However, a pill-popping mother (Mira Sorvino), loose-cannon stepfather (Rob Morgan), and other small-town Alabama wackos change the playbook. The film inevitably feels dated while examining such a rapidly evolving landscape rife with greed and corruption. Yet given all the exaggerations and stereotypes, the story fumbles rather than hitting hard. (Not rated, 105 minutes).

Skategoat

Contrary to the average skateboarding documentary, the most powerful footage in this stirring portrait of pro skater Leandre Sanders doesn’t involve tricks on a board. Fortunately, it’s not a generic rags-to-riches tale, either. As a teenager, Sanders would wow onlookers at the famed skatepark in his hometown of Venice Beach. But his impoverished personal life was filled with turmoil. Rookie director Van Alpert, whose camera had been chronicling Sanders for more than a decade, focuses on a makeshift support system and a passion for his craft that enabled Sanders to keep skating and eventually turn professional. It’s inspiring, due mostly to its nonchalantly charismatic subject. (Not rated, 84 minutes).

Sound of Falling

Relentlessly bleak yet powerfully audacious, this haunting drama from German director Mascha Schilinski (Dark Blue Girl) builds cumulative potency from its overlapping stories of four girls tied together by trauma spanning more than a century. It alternates between depicting the struggles of Alma (Hanna Heck), Erika (Lea Drinda), Angelika (Lena Urzendowsky), and Lenka (Laeni Geiseler) — who lived in a remote farm house at different times from the early 20th century to the present day — sharing an unspoken connection through their secrets and memories of almost unimaginable hardships. Although it can be structurally disorienting, the film champions resilience while injecting dark humor to counterbalance its melancholy mood. (Not rated, 155 minutes).