SIFF Advance: LEAVE NO TRACE

Directing: B+
Acting: B+
Writing: B+
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B+

More often than not, movies about people living "off the grid" sensationalize the lifestyle, in one way or another. Leave No Trace, named after the code of ethics for existing in nature, has something a bit different to say about it. It says it in a way that is quiet, meditative, and touching.

Will (Ben Foster) is a vet so affected by PTSD he can't handle living a "normal" life. He's been living with his young teenage daughter, Tom (17-year-old New Zealand actor Thomasin McKenzie, here proving her chops instantly), in a large public park just outside Portland, Oregon. It's never revealed just how long they've been living there, but it's been long enough for them to run regular "drills" to hide away from any authorities who might come for them.

And that's exactly what happens, when Tom makes a mistake and gets spotted, bringing the police out later with dogs to track them down, after several scenes establishing their well-worn daily lives in the woods, a system of self-sufficiency in full swing. They have shelter, they share a tent, they sautée gathered mushrooms, they collect rain water. But, it's illegal to live on public land.

Did Tom ever experience a more mainstream life, I wonder? She asks what her mother's favorite color was, and that's all we hear about her. Did her mother die? Run off and leave Tom with her mentally unstable father, for some reason? Leave No Trace does leave some seemingly pressing questions unanswered.

Still, writer-director Debra Granik, who previously introduced us to Jennifer Lawrence in 2010's superb Winter's Bone, fully realizes this father and daughter's life together as it exists now. The authorities do some psychological evaluations, determine that Will is not a danger to Tom, and a local man offers them a place to stay on his relatively secluded tree farm.

Leave No Trace is really the story of a father and daughter growing in different directions. Will can't abide what he sees as unearned charity for too long, but with increased exposure to other people and other ways of living, she wants to inch a bit closer to civilization. Will won't accept a telephone. The longer he keeps Tom off the grid, in very subtle and minor increments, the more reckless he becomes as the man who is supposed to be protecting her. He has trouble seeing how unsustainable this way of living is for the two of them.

I'd call that ironic, except "sustainability" is never a concern of theirs. Will just wants to be on his own -- preferably with his daughter. It's pretty heartbreaking when she has to assert that "What's wrong with you isn't wrong with me." As it turns out, this is not the life she wants.

Movies like this often fly under the radar, precisely because there is nothing flashy about them. There's no exciting action whatsoever, no melodramatic conflicts. It's almost misleading to call it a drama. It's more of a character study -- but a very well executed one, full of lush shots of forests in Northwest Oregon and Southwest Washington. Leave No Trace is not likely to make a star of Thomasin McKenzie the way Winter's Bone did Jennifer Lawrence, but hopefully another movie will soon. McKenzie deserves it, her performance utterly believable and every bit a match to Ben Foster, who is also great.

It's difficult to characterize the tone of Leave No Trace. It feels like a contradiction in terms to call it a comforting sadness, but I can think of no other way to put it. It has a specific melancholy, a kind that is sort of inviting. It's pensive, in all the right ways.

Thomasin McKenzie is a breakout in Leave No Trace.

Overall: B+

SIFF Advance: PROSPECT

Directing: B+
Acting: B+
Writing: A-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B+
Special Effects: B

Prospect is a prime example of the joy in discovery that can come with attending film festivals. You know very little about these movies going in, and you find yourself delighted by the surprise of something you might not have had any idea you'd have any interest in.

And this film holds particular interest to Western Washingtonians: it was shot entirely locally, most of it in or around Seattle; interiors built in a warehouse in the Fremont neighborhood. Some of the exteriors were shot in a park in Shoreline. And for the purposes of the story, it works: a father and daughter are visiting a forest moon to do some prospecting (hence the title) for a certain type of valuable gem, which must be carefully harvested out of something that looks like a cross between a white radish and a stomach organ, which lives in the ground.

We really learn nothing about the time period otherwise -- the setting is either in rickety spaceships or, in the vast majority of the story, in these forests -- and that's okay. The script, co-written by Chris Caldwell and Zeek Earl, who both also co-directed, is by easily the best thing about this movie, and reveals its strengths with every turn of the plot.

The only predictable thing about it is that things go wrong: this father-daughter team finds themselves pressed for time in getting what they need and getting their ship back off this moon, but they encounter a couple of other people who have similar aims. From there on out, in their increasingly desperate endeavor not to get stranded, the story is both tense and unexpected.

They key players are Transparent's Jay Duplass as the father (he and his brother Mark have longstanding relationships with filmmakers in the Pacific Northwest, and have starred in several movies set here); Pedro Pascal (perhaps most recognizable as Oberyn Martell on Game of Thrones) as his would-be nemesis; and most notably, a fantastic newcomer Sophie Thatcher as Cee, the no-nonsense teenage daughter. There are a few other parts in the film, but probably three quarters of it is focused only on these three.

Now, the production design in Prospect can be a little . . . janky. I have mixed feelings about the look and feel of their small ship that takes them to the moon's surface, with its vague shades of Nostromo working-class griminess. That sort of design could fly a lot more easily in films from the seventies, but this decidedly analog means of both transport and communication, clearly a product of budget constraints, has more the feeling of an alternate dimension than a future we can actually expect.

But, the performances, and especially the story itself, make such things quite easily overlooked. Even the special effects, also clearly rendered under budget constraints, have that effect, as those are impressive given the limitations. The sight of a huge planet in the sky beyond the tops of Washington's forests makes for some memorable imagery. The air in these moon forests are also supposed to be toxic, so they are shot with bright lens filters and given an otherworldly look with white specks always slowly swishing through the air. It's only this toxicity that necessitates the suits the characters wear while they are outside, which make for several pertinent plot points.

Between the writing, the editing, and the setting, Prospect makes for a deceptively simple and eminently satisfying story. It's science fiction without the usual trappings of unnecessarily convoluted technological details. They basic story -- a young girl faced with odds stacked increasingly against her as she faces a need for escape -- could easily be taken out of this context and plopped into a present-day setting, but it wouldn't be as interesting.

This movie isn't at all concerned with real-life science, which potentially will annoy viewers with any such knowledge. The best science fiction tends to use real-world knowledge as a jumping-off point, and Prospect doesn't necessarily do that. It simply establishes its own world with its own rules. But it is also a well-constructed story that unfolds with a finesse all its own -- to such an extent that I have been very careful not to give to much away. Once you get a chance, just see this movie. You won't be disappointed.

We're not going in the direction you think we are.

Overall: B+

SIFF Advance: THE MOST DANGEROUS YEAR

Directing: B
Writing: B+
Cinematography: B-
Editing: B+

It can be difficult to be objective with a film like The Most Dangerous Year -- honestly, regardless of what side of the political or social spectrum you're on. To the people making this film, it's about the fight to protect their beloved children. To the people who would benefit the most from watching but mostly would refuse to, it's about exposing their beloved children to sexual predators.

If you're on the right side of history, it's the former group that matters most, and the latter group that is ridiculous. If you're blind to facts and willfully ignorant of actual scientific data, then the reverse appears to be true. Even making that statement betrays a level of sanctimony on my own part -- a lack of objectivity -- that loses sight of the ways minds actually can be changed. Very few minds, but just a few more, over time, bit by bit.

The Most Dangerous Year is quite understandably a passion project by its writer and director, Vlada Knowlton, who, with her husband Chadd (who also serves as Supervising Sound Editor and Composer), has a young, transgender daughter named Annabelle. She took out her cameras to record their own progress, as well as that of several other families with trans children, fighting anti-trans bathroom bills moving through the Washington State legislature in 2016. Many similar measures were moving through other state legislatures in the country at the time, but Knowlton focuses locally, on her home state.

So how do you judge this then, not only on the importance of its message -- which is paramount and clear -- but as a film? This would be a relevant question for me, even if I didn't have a close friend who also has a trans child, who was heavily involved in this local fight, and even can be spotted a couple of times in the background of crowded scenes, like a movie extra. Hell, even if I weren't gay, and didn't have a long history of association with the queer community.

I'm fairly gender non-conforming myself; these preposterous questions of policing which bathrooms can be used by members of which gender are directly relevant to me as well. I have a long history of seeing double-takes when I walk into a men's room. Just last year at the airport a security agent actually said to me, "I'm sorry, I have to ask. Which button am I pushing? Pink or blue?" Why don't you push the purple one?

The experiences I've had of this nature are patently innocuous compared to those who have lived long lives, in different eras -- and, frankly, even in liberal areas at the current time -- as actual transgender individuals. The Most Dangerous Year, named after a study that declared that of the year 2016 for trans people, doesn't get into those specifics, but rather the passionate need and desire of parents to protect their trans children from senseless indignities.

Vlada Knowlton does an admirable job of demonstrating empathy for her opponents -- something particularly stressed by local trans activist Aidan Key, who hosts workshops and presentations on these issues, and has been an indispensable resource for many, including a good number of the parents and families featured in this film. She wisely makes it a point to give a good amount of air time to State Senator Joe Fain, who represents South King County as a Republican. He is one of few Republicans in the state legislature who opposed these so-called "bathroom bills" rather than supporting them, and he is seen facing his constituency, allowing them to voice their concerns and voice their frustrations, and then offers them both understanding and an insistence that civil rights are not to be put up for polling.

The Most Dangerous Year has many such moments, both striking and inspiring: open dialogue is the door to progress, rather than mutual hostility. Still, one wonders to what degree this film will simply preach to the choir. In a world increasingly characterized by insistence that facts don't matter, how much can doctors and experts featured here matter? Probably a lot, at least in educational and activist spheres. Other states going through similar battles could learn something from this film, as can other school districts around the country looking at updating their policies to include trans students -- another focus of this film.

That does, to a degree, make The Most Dangerous Year feel like far more of an educational tool than a film. Viewing it could easily feel to some like an obligation, more than elucidation through art. This is Knowlton's first feature length film, and a local production, both of which are easily evident onscreen. Judging it on the basis of its message (which is vital) versus on its merits as a film (which is decent) can be different things. Would I be insisting this should be seen if it were of the same quality but on a different subject? From my position, that's impossible to answer. But this is the subject at hand, and it does command attention.

Vlada and Chadd Knowlton, with daughter Annabelle.

Overall: B+

DISOBEDIENCE

Directing: B+
Acting: A-
Writing: A-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B+

Disobedience is the kind of movie that moves relatively slowly, but the entire time, you can't take your eyes off of it. The opening scene is fairly memorable: an Orthodox rabbi gives a sermon touching on free will among both angels and beasts, right before he drops dead of a heart attack.

Rachel Weisz plays Ronit, the woman we soon learn was this rabbi's daughter. She's working as a photographer in New York when she gets the call; she heads home to her Jewish community in London immediately. It turns out, she hasn't been back in many years. When she reaches the house where a memorial is taking place, an old friend, Dovid (an effectively restrained Alessandro Nivola) answers the door and says to her, "We weren't expecting you."

What follows is a series of awkward encounters, person after person surprised to see Ronit there -- including Esti (an excellent Rachel McAdams), someone it takes Ronit a minute to realize is now married to Dovid. It seems they were all best friends, once upon a time.

Dovid, fully aware of a more complicated history that unfolds in due time, offers to let Ronit stay with him and Esti. Ronit's estrangement from her rabbi father is merely half the story, but certainly always relevant.

Disobedience thus reveals itself to be a love story unlike any other heretofore told. Surely we have seen plenty of same-sex love stories, and we have seen a few movies about strictly conservative Jewish families. We don't see a lot of movies combining the two, particularly with this particular brand of orthodoxy.

Today I learned that orthodox Jewish women often wear wigs, to conform to the religious requirement of covering their hair. Orthodox Jewish men cover their heads with a yarmulke; the women, evidently, have a sheitel. When Ronit arrives back at her Jewish community in London, all the other women around are clearly wearing these wigs, and if you know little about the faith, it's oddly distracting at first, until the film makes it a point of drawing attention to them.

Weisz, for her part, has a fantastic head of hair all her own, so it's nice she mostly keeps it uncovered. It's probably halfway through the film before her romantic past with Esti becomes explicitly clear, and before long they have a fairly explicit sex scene. At lest one thing happens between the two of them that baffled me, but then, I'm a gay man; the lesbian friend I saw it with had no particular insight either. Otherwise, though, even the sex scenes are integral to the story, a shift in the characters' journey rather than any means of simply titillating the audience.

In fact, Disobedience is impressive in its practice of giving the female characters both self-assurance and agency. Even in an ultraconservative context, once Esti is faced with the life choices she has made and where she is now, rather than shutting down and rolling over for her husband, her immediate instinct is to assert herself. It's a beautiful thing to see, especially given that the man, while struggling to come to terms with his own circumstances, respects her choices.

As such, this isn't a movie about shame, as you might expect, so much as it is about coming face to face with the consequences of your own choices early in life, and choosing how to deal with them now. Life is complicated, even more so when not exactly existing in the mainstream of society, and there is no manner of offering any neatly wrapped happy ending for these characters. Satisfying conclusions, though -- that's another matter.

The script, based on the novel of the same name by Naomi Alderman, more than once elicits the expectation of a pretty clichéd movie scene: running through an airport; catching up to a loved one in a taxi cab. In ever case, however, the story subtly turns in an unexpected direction, which is the basic nature of the entire story in Disobedience, a deeply affecting love story whose depth slowly sneaks up on you.

An un-Orthodox love triangle.

Overall: B+

SIFF Advance: WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?

Directing: A-
Writing: A-
Cinematography: B
Editing: A

A good portion of the audience for Won't You Be My Neighbor? is trading on nostalgia -- a look back at a beloved public television show from their childhood. It's a little different with me: I never watched Mister Rogers' Neighborhood as a child, and only knew about it as a snotty teenager who was obliged to look at it as this dorky, dumb TV show that was well past its prime.

I'm a lot older now, and feel a bit sad for that former teenage self, who was totally ignorant of what kind of impact Fred Rogers had on the lives of countless young children. This was a guy who was at once conservative and radical, genuinely reserved as well as extraordinarily open-hearted. This documentary, assuredly directed by Morgan Neville and expertly edited by Jeff Malmberg and Aaron Wickenden, captures all these elements of the man as well as anyone could hope for.

You know that meme we keep seeing on Facebook after all these national tragedies that now happen all too often? The one quoting Fred Rogers saying, "My mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'" He really did say that. It was originally in a newspaper column rather than on his program, granted. But Won't You Be My Neighbor? also features audio of him talking about it.

Here was a man who taught the value of optimism in an uncertain world, who embodied moral certainty in times both bright and dark. He tackled surprisingly heavy topics within the very first week of his local public access show in Pittsburgh in 1968. By the eighties, his show tackled serious topics as a theme -- such as death -- for entire weeks.

Any time a profile like this comes along, of a public figure who so moved so many people in their youth, it begs the question: who in the world is in the public eye right now, who will be similarly revered twenty to fifty years from now? Who in today's world will find them approached by admirers in their twilight years, thanking them for the assurances they felt back in the twenty-tens? Can you think of anyone?

The thing is, Fred Rogers was an anomaly in his own time. Director Morgan Neville says Rogers reportedly stated any movie about his life would be incredibly boring. Neville begs to differ, but he still makes a wise choice by turning Won't You Be My Neighbor? less a straightforward biography of a man, and more "a movie about his ideas." And they are powerful, potent ideas, indeed. This is a man who offered kind words of comfort from his show's beginnings during the Vietnam War, clear until he was making post-9/11 PSAs.

Then again, nobody's perfect, I suppose: François Scarborough Clemmons, who played Officer Clemmons on the show, talks both about what a statement it was for Rogers to have a black man on his show, and about how when Rogers caught wind of Clemmons being seen at a local gay bar, he told Clemmons he could never go back there. As always, depending on the circumstances, you have to pick your battles. According to Clemmons, Rogers eventually came around, and accepted him exactly as he was -- something he had been saying directly to children on television for years.

In any case, even Fred Rogers had his weaknesses, and although it doesn't reveal a great many of them, they are acknowledged by this movie. The most important thing to learn from this portrait, however, is how pure of heart and generous the man really was: the question is posed whether he was the same in everyday life as he was on the show. (You can guess the answer.) Rogers was a man who led by example, a model of tolerance for alternate ways of thinking. He had compassion to spare, especially for children -- so much so that, unless you're soulless and dead inside, you're going to need tissues handy when watching this movie. I got teary several times.

Others featured talking about the man with predictable fondness include musician and show guest Yo-Yo Ma; former crew members on the show, including David Newell, who worked behind the scenes at first and wound up with a regular part as Mr. McFeely; and Fred's widow, Joanne Rogers, to name just a few out of many. They all have deep love and respect for the man, which Won't You Be My Neighbor? makes clear was well earned.

A model neighbor.

Overall: A-

Opens locally in Seattle Friday, June 15.

SIFF Advance: LOVE, GILDA

Directing: B-
Writing: B
Cinematography: B
Editing: B

It's difficult to say how much interest Love, Gilda will have to anyone besides hardcore fans -- of Gilda Radner herself, of course; beyond that, perhaps of early Saturday Night Live, on which this documentary places a large focus. We may very well be at a time when younger people don't even know who Gilda Radner was. She passed away in 1989, after all, and people born after her death are now old enough to have grown up, gotten married and started families. Or embarked an extended period of adolescent behavior, I suppose.

It would be nice for them to get to know Radner a little, what an infectious presence she had, the way she inspired others. Plenty of present-day celebrities and Saturday Night Live alumni -- most of them from within the past twenty years -- are interviewed; only one (Cecily Strong) a current cast member. It's still fun, certainly, to see the likes of Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, Bill Hader, Melissa McCarthy and more given a chance to hold and read Gilda Radner's original handwritten diaries. Hader calls it, fairly earnestly, "an honor."

It would also be great, of course, for people who only have a vague idea of who Gilda Radner is to get a sense of her innate talent, how funny she really was. Curiously, first-time feature director Lisa Dapolito doesn't show us much of this. Plenty of clips of Radner's performances can be found elsewhere, sure, but in a documentary about the trajectory of her career and tragic end of her life, it feels like a bit of a missed opportunity.

On the flip side, anyone who did know Gilda Radner's work very well is bound to be absorbed by Love, Gilda. Granted, they could just as easily be so taken by it on a streaming platform like HBO or Netflix, where this film would honestly fit better than at your local movie theatre. Radner was a great woman, examined here in a merely decent movie, which doesn't really warrant an outing.

Love, Gilda feels like the best a director could do with what she had to work with. There are some good "gets" as interview subjects (Chevy Chase, Martin Short) and even some good archival interview footage of Radner's husband at the time she died, Gene Wilder. There remains the vague feeling of something missing, something not quite painting a full picture. Perhaps there could have been interviews with her actual family.

As such, Love, Gilda is pleasant enough, a passable look at a wonderful comedic performer, certainly not a waste of time but not especially vital viewing either. If nothing else, it will leave you with a lasting impression of the beautiful smile of a woman who clearly felt immense joy in the work she did.

An incomplete but loving tribute.

Overall: B

SOLO: A STAR WARS STORY

Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B
Special Effects: B

Solo is fine. And, yes, it’s fun – but I’m going to start off with a chief complaint: even this exact same movie would be a more thrilling experience without oversaturation of the market with Star Wars movies. This has been my beef with the relentless movie release schedule since the very announcement that we’d be getting one of these movies every year for the foreseeable future: audience, if not quite tiring of the movies, are progressively going to lose their enthusiasm for them.

That’s certainly what’s happening already: as usual, I went to see the film on opening night. Remember, way back in 2015, opening night of The Force Awakens, theatre lobbies were packed with fans in line for sold-out screenings hours before showtime? Last night at my theatre’s first showing of the film, the lobby was empty. Granted, trailers had already begun so everyone was inside – but three years ago, under the same circumstances, the lobby would have been full of fans still waiting for subsequent screenings. Hell, even the friend I went with, who scoffed at my complaints about over-saturation in the beginning because he’s such a lifelong die-hard Star Wars fan, commented on how even his excitement level isn’t the same with this movie. I felt so vindicated!

The point is, even when the movies are good – as this one is – a movie every year is just too much. It robs audiences of the thrill of anticipation, which has always been half the fun of Star Wars. As of 2015, we were getting one prequel series basically once every other decade. I’m not saying it should be required to spend fifteen years whetting the appetite, but even the first two trilogies released each of their films once every three years – that alone intensified expectations. Now, we we’ve had four Star Wars movies in not quite three and a half years. The primary “Episodes VII-IX” trilogy episodes are coming every two years instead of the previously-standard three, and each off year is getting filled with these “A Star Wars Story” stand-alone films. It’s hard not to look at this cynically: is there any necessity to it other than a cash-grab? Ironically, this oversaturation clearly affects each individual film’s box office take. They remain successful, of course – Solo is still expected to top Memorial Day Weekend – so presumably a profit strategy clearly taken out of the Marvel playbook is a better play for studios. Is it better for audiences?

Solo is neither the Star Wars movie fans were clamoring for, nor the Star Wars movie they need. But! Once you open up to it, there really is no resisting it. Complain all you want about The Lego Movie directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller being replaced by Ron Howard due to “creative differences,” even after such production conflicts, to be honest, Howard’s populist approach works for it. Solo is much more light and breezy compared to either the current trilogy installments (whose increasingly morally ambiguous tones and themes take the series in a direction that’s exciting in its own right) or 2016’s Rogue One. It’s also true that both Rogue One and Solo effectively qualify as just more prequels, with both of them offering Easter eggs and puzzle pieces to connect themselves to the original trilogy. Solo doesn’t end with a direct lead-in to the original Star Wars like Rogue One did (and, mercifully, doesn’t feature any original cast members digitally de-aged), but it has plenty about it that directly connects itself to 1977’s A New Hope in particular. A lot of lines are spoken that are familiar from other films, and if you’re not paying attention you might miss Han saying “I’ve got a good feeling about this!”

If nothing else, Solo should please the fanboys who were stupidly irate about The Last Jedi, even though anyone with half a brain can see that installment eventually earning a respect in a similar vein to The Empire Strikes Back. In any case, Solo doesn’t much bother itself with taking risks, or taking the Star Wars universe into uncomfortably unfamiliar territory. It’s also much less dark than Star Wars movies have been in some time. To me, that makes it broadly less compelling – but it also makes it, at least superficially and on its own terms, more entertaining. It’s got less thinking, more action. And it has some great action sequences, including when Han first meets Chewbacca (with Peter Mayhew finally retiring from the role after six Star Wars movies, previous body double Joonas Suatomo now steps into the role full time). It should be noted, though, that it doesn't get particularly cutting edge with its special effects, which used to be the hallmark of this franchise.

It was slightly difficult to see Alden Ehrenreich as a guy who eventually became the older Han Solo we were first introduced to, based only on the trailers. But Solo (which offers an amusingly random origin to that last name) as a full movie makes it pretty easy. Everything this movie shows us offers an insight into what Han Solo would eventually become. And, as always, it features great actors in a supporting cast: top-billed Woody Harrelson as Beckett, the smuggler with whom Han joins forces; Thandie Newton as Val, Beckett’s partner; Game of Thrones’s Emilia Clarke as Han’s childhood flame, Qi’ra; Paul Bettany as Dryden Vos, Qui’ra’s villainous boss; Jon Favreau voices the four-armed monkey creature Rio Durant; and of course, arguably the MVP of the cast, Donald Glover is Lando Calrissian, impressively weaved into the narrative of Han’s back story. Phoebe Waller-Bridge must also be mentioned as the voice of Lando’s beloved social justice warrior droid L3, providing a good majority of the best comedic lines of the film’s first half.

It could be argued that most of what we see in Solo is just a rehash of the same sorts of things we’ve seen in other Star Wars movies, but whatever. It’s still fun to see new characters in different roles, even if they’re doing basically the same things. At least we’re not seeing another Death Star getting blown up yet again. This is becoming a very familiar universe, even when we visit new locations within it. There remains an element of comfort in being there, though, so even if the thrill of anticipation is seeing clearly diminishing returns, we keep coming back, so far not quite disappointed in it.

It'll be fine, Solo. It's fine.

Overall: B

SIFF Advance: THREE IDENTICAL STRANGERS

Directing: A-
Writing: A
Cinematography: B
Editing: A

When Three Identical Strangers begins, a present-day version of one of the film's three primary subjects tells the tale of arriving in college, only to be bewildered as countless people on campus believe they recognize him, but call him by someone else's name. In short order, Eddie discovered he had an identical twin neither he nor his adoptive parents ever knew about, named Bobby. They wind up with their picture in the paper, which leads them to . . . you guessed it! A third identical brother named David.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg in this, one of the most astonishing documentaries I have ever seen. "The truth is stranger than fiction," indeed. Except, to be fair, whether it's true or not, how a story is told is the key to whether it's a good one. Director Tim Wardle clearly knows how to tell a story.

Granted, there are a few moments in Three Identical Strangers that are transparently staged, and I don't just mean the re-enactments -- which, as far as typical documentary re-enactments go, are done quite well. And these are details that someone like me, who sees far more movies than most people and am thus tune into certain elements that most won't care about, is more apt to notice. I'm not sure what need there is for us to see a few seconds of an interview subject staring pensively out her living room window, but given the overall impact of this film, it hardly matters. You can only fill the screen with so many talking heads. Then again, if what they're talking about is compelling enough, these little flourishes of dressing aren't needed.

How provocative and layered the whole story of this set of biological triplets is, cannot be understated. Without ever being explicit about it or spoon-feeding the viewer with overt conceptual ideas, it has a whole lot to say about adoption, the influence of class, and perhaps most importantly, scientific ethics. I'm not sure Wardle even intended this, but it occurred to me to wonder at one point if we as the audience were inadvertently continuing participation in the very scientific study the people in this film decried.

I'm already bordering on spoiler territory with that, and to a particularly unusual degree for the documentary genre, the less you know about where the story is going, the better. The details of triplets accidentally discovering each other at the age of nineteen is astonishing enough, and that's truly not even the half of it. There are twists you won't possibly see coming.

I will say that Three Identical Strangers starts off very light and fun, all about the twins' delight in discovering each other, and the details of their adoption backstory get progressively dark and sinister from there. This is not just fun from beginning to end, and it eventually moves into tragedy and some very justifiable anger. But also, questions of morality and ethics, and whether or not some of the details exist in a gray area. The subjects have a clear idea in their mind as far as that goes. But are they right?

This may be the best thing about the film itself. Although it gets slightly oversimplified with its pondering of the question of nature vs. nurture, it allows for consideration of all sorts of other complicated issues, without bringing them up directly. There's a very superficial way this film can be consumed; it could also be the subject of academic study -- both the story it presents as well as how the film presents it. There's so much to mine here, it's hard to know where to begin.

So, I'll leave the rest up to you. If nothing else, Three Identical Strangers is essential viewing.

Eddie, Bobby and Dave. I mean, Bobby, Eddie and Dave. Dave, Eddie and Bobby?

Overall: A-

BOOK CLUB

Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B
Editing: B

The bottom line with Book Club, really, is that if you like the four classic female actors who headline the cast, it's basically a given that you'll like this movie. To be certain, with forty years or more of acting experience behind each one of them, they have all been in bad movies before, and this one isn't great -- but I must admit, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Each one of these women is a pleasure to spend time with onscreen, and having that with even one actor can elevate the experience. Here we get it four times over.

When it comes to the storytelling itself, first time feature director Bill Holderman (previously a director on films like A Walk in the Woods and All Is Lost -- this guy seems to specialize in vehicles for aging movie stars) really isn't offering anything new or innovative here. In fact there are some pretty eye-roll inducing moments a few times in the script, where I thought to myself, That's really dumb.

It's unfortunate, but there is something pretty forward-thinking about a mainstream movie featuring four women actors who range in age from 65 (Mary Steenbergen) to 72 (both Diane Keaton and Candice Bergen) to 80 (Jane Fonda). Women like this are getting comparatively steady work that they never would have gotten two or more decades ago, but even now it's unheard of for four of them to be headlining the same movie.

Some great actors play their love interests: Andy Garcia (62), Don Johnson (68), Craig T. Nelson (74), even Richard Dreyfuss (70), who we rarely get to see in movies anymore. Ed Begley Jr. (68) shows up as an ex; Wallace Shawn (74) has a brief scene as a date. So many old people! And okay, sure, there are still more men than women, but that's a technicality. Who gets ninety percent of the screen time? These four fantastic women.

Admittedly, the inciting incident -- what sets all four of them off on a late-in-life journey of self-discovery -- is definitively hokey: these friends, who have all met for a book club every month for forty years, move from intellectually stimulating literature to reading Fifty Shades of Grey. To be fair, they basically do it for a laugh, and none of them take it especially seriously -- but it is the tool by which a new kind of fire ignites in all of them. The book still gets made fun of, at least a little bit, but never in a mean-spirited way, which makes it easy to imagine author E.L. James signing off on its widespread use in the film. This is product placement at both its most brazen and its most seamlessly integrated.

And this is also why it's easy to imagine Book Club being a far worse movie than it is. It's actually perfectly decent, and made more fun by the actors in it -- all of them great, but none more so than Candice Bergen with her dry wit and smooth delivery.

It's not even as much about sex as you might expect. Sure, Carol (Steenbergen) is notably frustrated by her husband's (Nelson) apparent loss of sexual interest in her. This results in a sequence after she slips him a couple of Viagra pills that, like much of the movie, winds up being fun in spite of how hokey it is. Sharon (Bergen) delves into online dating for the first time, and her having nothing but pleasant experiences with that is beyond unrealistic, but whatever; watching her fumble with the website is funny anyway. Vivian (Fonda) has a story line that inverts tropes, where she is the successful woman fine with sex but uninterested in the complications of romance, but then falls for an old flame from forty years ago (Johnson). Diane (Keaton) curiously winds up being both the most focused-on character -- she narrates -- and the least interesting, with two daughters (played by Katie Aselton and Alicia Silverstone) laughably over-protective of their aging, widowed mother and trying to convince her to move from California to their basement in Arizona. In fact, this was the one story strand that genuinely annoyed me, because no woman in Diane's position in the real world would defer to her annoying children to the degree that she does.

And Holderman seems to have taken a page out of the Nancy Meyers playbook and given each of these fabulous older women fairly wealthy lifestyles that don't necessarily match their respective careers (or lack thereof). It makes for a lot of scenes set in beautiful homes, though, so Book Club is always pleasant to look at. This is a movie that could certainly use more depth in its unfolding plot, but focusing too much on that misses the point. No one here is aiming for anything higher than to have a good time, and these actors all clearly had a great time making this movie. That alone makes watching it about as pleasant -- and, surprisingly so, consistently funny -- as anyone could ask for.

Everyone here is delighted to learn how much better this movie is than the book they're reading.

Overall: B

I FEEL PRETTY

Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B
Editing: B+

Did you hear there was a backlash against I Feel Pretty? It was dumb as shit, perpetuated by many people making judgments based on the trailer alone. Well, I actually saw the movie, and guess what? Well . . . okay, it's also kind of dumb. But not dumb as shit! Also, it's fine. A pleasant enough, silly diversion.

Honestly, stupid reactions based on preconceived notions or not, conceptually, this movie would have fit much more sensibly in the cinema landscape of, say, the late nineties. It's not like the concept of a woman who does not fit traditional notions of "standard beauty" being confident and capable and sexy is all that novel these days. I Feel Pretty does kind of try to make it seem as though it is. Then again, sexism still runs rampant, and anyone who thinks resulting insecurity, particularly among women, is nonexistent is basically a moron.

So really, you can kind of go both ways with this movie. But here are some noteworthy redeeming values.

First and foremost is the impressively subtle performances. Amy Schumer as Renee Bennett has nuance arguably not seen before in her other movies, both as the insecure woman who can't conceive of herself as pretty, and as the more confident version of herself who suddenly sees only a spectacular beauty in the mirror after hitting her head in a Soul Cycle accident. She carries the movie well, and Aidy Bryant and Busy Philipps are lovely as her two best friends. Rory Scovel in particular is impressively subtle as Ethan, the boyfriend bemused by Renee's antics and inspired by her confidence.

The real standout, though, is Michelle Williams as Avery LeClaire, the CEO of the cosmetics company where Renee works. Perhaps her squeaky high voice was intended as comedy, but unfortunately Williams doesn't get much in the way of laughs, which means she won't get the notice she deserves. But she really commits to the part, to the point where it would be easy not to realize it's even her. Comedies don't usually feature acting this good. At the very least, Williams makes her character sincere and relatable, even as someone regular people would not tend to relate to.

But, they are launching a new, lower-end line of products aimed at stores like Target, which is how co-directors and co-writers Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein infuse the script with one of multiple odd parallels to the movie Big. Renee happens to be present at a meeting where she's offered the chance to make a "surprisingly" incisive observation, and in no time at all she's flying in a private plane with company leadership. Also, she literally watches the "I wish I were big" scene in Big and goes to make her own "I wish I were beautiful" wish with a coin in a fountain.

Which is to say, the idea that I Feel Pretty is contrived, and truly predictable, is an understatement. However dated the concept and message may seem however, they are still worthy. The very fact that people criticize this movie because Amy Schumer is supposedly "too beautiful" -- a famous blonde -- to be believable in the role is preposterous. Just spend two minutes reading any comment threads about her and within two sentences you'll find vile statements about her looks and her weight. Such critics, ironically, prove the film's actual worthiness.

Sure, I Feel Pretty has legitimate flaws, and won't be remembered as any kind of classic. It's also silly fun, with a message that may be hokey but is also important. Certain plot developments, and especially the "rousing speech" at the end, might justifiably elicit eye rolls, but there's nothing worth hating here. I found myself fairly charmed, all things considered.

If only everyone felt such joy in what they saw in the mirror.

Overall: B