FENCES

PG-13, 138 minutes. Mystic Luxury Cinemas. “Fences,” August Wilson’s heartfelt, rough-hewn play about a working-class black family in postwar Pittsburgh, had its debut in 1983 but feels exceptionally relevant today. Its themes of financial struggle, imperiled masculinity and the elusive American dream have the potential to speak to all colors in the wake of a racially polarizing presidential election. The film version of “Fences,” directed by and starring Denzel Washington, arrives in theaters with excellent timing. Washington plays Troy Maxson, a once-promising baseball player who aged out of the game by the time the major leagues began admitting blacks. He was too early, says his wife, Rose (Viola Davis), but facts aren’t easy for Troy to face. “There ought never have been a time called too early,” he says. Now in his 50s, Troy is a garbage collector. He proudly calls himself a good provider, though he seems bitter about it, too. Troy is a fearsome and complicated father figure, as tyrannical as Big Daddy in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” and as pitiable as Willy Loman in “Death of a Salesman.” He wrote off his first son, Lyons (an excellent Russell Hornsby), the minute he left home, but Troy’s athletically gifted younger son, Cory (Jovan Adepo), remains under his thumb. For Troy, a man’s home is his castle, even if it’s a modest row house with a backyard fence that never seems to get built. “Fences” is an actors’ showcase, which is both its strength and weakness. It feels more about performances than about deeper themes. — Rafer Guzman, Newsday

FIFTY SHADES DARKER

R, 115 minutes. Through tonight only at Niantic, Mystic Luxury Cinemas. Still playing at Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. The “Fifty Shades of Grey” book and film franchise positions itself as naughty soft-core eroticism for female audiences, but it’s hard to find anything all that arousing when laughing this hard. The second installment, “Fifty Shades Darker,” is pure camp. Audiences will be in ecstasy alright — from hysterical laughter. While decidedly not a comedy, there are times when you have to wonder if the film is in on the joke. Star Dakota Johnson definitely seems to be. Johnson’s subversive and sly knowingness is what makes her performance deceptively great. At first her shrinking violet act is irritating, the human embodiment of a Buzzfeed introvert listicle, until you realize that her flushed and whispery routine is part of a whole thing. She’s committed, and seems far smarter than the material. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service

FIST FIGHT

1/2 R, 91 minutes. Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. There’s a scene near the end of the comedy “Fist Fight” — not long before the altercation promised in the title — that more than makes up for whatever weak-sauce comedic sins have gone before. Let’s just say that the combo of Big Sean’s unprintable hit rap, star Charlie Day’s nebbishy physicality and a young girl’s school talent show is comedy gold. If the rest of the film were as uproarious, “Fist Fight” would rank up there with the “Jump Street” reboots in the “funny movies featuring Ice Cube” category. As it stands, “Fist Fight” is a pleasantly foul-mouthed exercise that gets by on the chemistry of its two stars: Cube, with his NWAtrained death glare, and Day, who basically recycles his likably hapless yet inventive character from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” into a more responsible suburban dad. — Cary Darling, Fort Worth Star-Telegram