Capsule reviews for March 29

La Chimera

It’s not always clear what Italian filmmaker Alice Rohrwacher (The Wonders) is trying to say in this idiosyncratic comic adventure, but its dreamlike visual splendor makes the open-ended narrative that much more enchanting. The loosely structured story is set in a small village where a British archaeologist (Josh O’Connor) reduced to robbing graves for ancient artifacts while he pines for his lost love, forging an uneasy bond with her mother (Isabella Rossellini). Not for all tastes, the ethereal and elliptical film relies on the performances to keep it emotionally anchored while Rohrwacher modulates reality and fantasy to generate multilayered substance beneath its distinct aesthetic style. (Not rated, 130 minutes).

Dogman

A fully committed portrayal by Caleb Landry Jones (Nitram) brings emotional depth and moral complexity to this otherwise muddled character study from French filmmaker Luc Besson, marking an offbeat change of pace from his action spectacles. Jones plays an artist rendered an outcast after an abusive upbringing that leaves him with severe physical impairments. He finds compassion from two sources — drag queens and dogs. But when he frees several of his canine companions from a shelter, he winds up on the run, again searching for acceptance. As it juggles reality and fantasy, Besson’s meandering screenplay is more heavy-handed than provocative, or more bark than bite. (Rated R, 113 minutes).

Karaoke

Examining the pleasures and pitfalls of a long-term marriage, this heartwarming yet emotionally grounded Israeli comedy is culturally specific and thematically universal. It follows Meir (Sasson Gabay) and Tova (Rita Shukrun), sharing a mundane life in a Tel Aviv high-rise when they become obsessed with their new free-spirited neighbor (Lior Ashkenazi) in the penthouse. The couple finds his charisma alluring, although the transition into hip social climbers threatens to tear apart rather than invigorate their marriage. The screenplay by director Moshe Rosenthal stumbles through some contrivances in the final act but benefits from sharp performances while conveying a quietly perceptive outlook on aging, commitment, and self-expression. (Not rated, 103 minutes).

The Listener

Perhaps more suited for a one-woman stage show than a feature film, this contemplative drama from director Steve Buscemi (Lonesome Jim) about a helpline worker dealing with loads of dirty laundry is more repetitive than resonant. Beth (Tessa Thompson) is the title character, facing a barrage of callers in various states of emergency during her overnight shift. At least she gets to work from home. Leaning into the frustrated working-class pulse of Americans during a time of post-pandemic angst, the film confronts crises involving law enforcement, military, teachers, mental health, and more. Thompson is great, although Beth’s interactions start to feel calculated instead of cathartic. (Not rated, 96 minutes).

Lousy Carter

For those on the same deadpan wavelength, this absurdist comic trifle from director Bob Byington (Infinity Baby) provides some big laughs with his usual portrait of a misanthropic outsider. In this case, that’s a bitterly sardonic college professor (David Krumholtz) teaching a seminar on The Great Gatsby when his doctor delivers a terminal diagnosis. Uncertain who he should tell or how to tie up loose ends, he ponders his legacy — or lack thereof — while awaiting his impending demise. Some late twists are amusing if forced, while Krumholtz balances his character’s lack of ambition with quirky charm. The cast includes Martin Starr, Stephen Root, and Olivia Thirlby. (Not rated, 76 minutes).

Madu

The charismatic subject is more appealing than this glossy documentary, which seems too eager to maneuver his coming-of-age journey into a fairy-tale narrative trajectory. You might have encountered 12-year-old Anthony Madu via a viral video of him dancing barefoot on a Nigerian street. This chronicle picks up after that, as the youngster relocates to a prestigious dance school in London, leaving his family behind to pursue his dreams — and experiencing some growing pains along the way. The observational style leaves a void for contextual details, although the uplifting film resonates in its quieter moments when Anthony’s innocent charm, and his precocious passion, take center stage. (Not rated, 100 minutes).

Mom and Dad’s Nipple Factory

Beneath the titillating title, this inspirational and deeply personal documentary is a compassionate glimpse into a small-town man discovering his purpose without compromising his faith. Its subject is Brian — the father of filmmaker and online content creator Justin Johnson — a soft-spoken entrepreneur in conservative Eau Claire, Wisconsin, whose creation of a prosthetic nipple for his wife following her mastectomy turns into an unlikely new philanthropic business venture operating out of his home, and out of sight of his devout Christian neighbors. The director pays tribute to Brian’s ingenuity alongside candid recollections of their strained relationship, resulting in a catharsis that yields a broad emotional resonance. (Not rated, 81 minutes).

On the Adamant

Illuminating and poignant, this observational documentary from director Nicolas Philbert (To Be and to Have) avoids providing deeper context yet remains a richly detailed glimpse into a unique facility to treat mental illness. The film takes a fly-on-the-wall approach to documenting the daily routine inside the Adamant, a facility on a barge floating on the Seine in Paris offering day services to adults with a specific focus on arts, music, and other creative outlets. We meet both caregivers and patients, and Philbert takes great care in sidestepping exploitation or sentiment. He enables moviegoers to salute their resiliency and change their perspectives on their own terms. (Not rated, 109 minutes).

With Love and a Major Organ

Although its execution feels muddled in spots, this Canadian science-fiction comedy finds an appealing offbeat rhythm. It’s set in a near future where emotions and relationships are closely regulated by technology, rendering the physical heart as powerful for some people and useless for others. That leads a frustrated insurance broker (Anna Maguire) to literally rip hers out of her chest and deliver it to an alluring stranger (Hamza Haq), which changes both of their lives in unexpected ways. The film occasionally struggles to balance the whimsical and the macabre, yet beneath its eccentricities is a heartfelt — pun intended — story of self-worth and romantic expression. (Not rated, 91 minutes).