“Gloria Bell” successfully transplants story of a questing woman from Chile to L.A.

“Gloria Bell” relocates story of midlife journey from Chile to L.A .

When Americans remake foreign films, they usually figure out a way to screw things up, but “Gloria Bell” — based on the terrific Chilean film “Gloria” — gets it right. One probable reason for this is that “Gloria Bell” has the same director that “Gloria” did, Sebastian Lelio.

Yes, some small things get lost in the translation. Julianne Moore has maybe just a hint of plaintiveness that the role could have done without, a plaintiveness that was nowhere in the performance of Pauline Garcia, the original Gloria. Still, this is a strong movie about a woman in her late fifties, and there are not many titles in that category.

Actually, there are not many movies about the emotional lives of people in their late fifties, in general, for the simple reason that movies about emotional life usually deal with grand internal transformations, about coming into profound self-knowledge. That usually doesn’t apply to that period of late middle age: By the time people are in their midfifties, they pretty much know themselves.

The great achievement of the original “Gloria” was that Lelio figured out a way to make a drama about someone who already knows herself, likes herself and has nothing especially wrong with her. How do you make a drama from that? Answer: By showing that, as we get older, it sometimes requires a certain discipline and rigorous sense of self simply to stay the same. The challenge of maturity is often not about change but about locating and maintaining a wellspring of self-renewal.

That’s the subject of “Gloria Bell.” Gloria is divorced, has a good job and two grown children. What she likes best is going out, drinking and dancing. Her musical taste hasn’t evolved since 1984, but that’s all right, because she has found a huge nightclub that hasn’t updated its playlist since the first Reagan administration. The nightclub is the one bit of pure fantasy. In the United States, there aren’t sprawling discos catering to singles in their fifties and sixties. To Americans, even the idea seems weird.

John Turturro is the man she meets one night, while sitting at the bar. Arnold (Turturro) is shy and newly divorced. He’s sensitive, reasonably solvent and he clearly thinks she’s great. But as is often the case, there is the inevitable crazy baggage, stuff that one would never guess just by looking at someone or even talking to them for hours.

With Arnold, it’s two things, actually: The first is that he used to be obese. He’s newly thin, and he’s not used to it. The second is that he is the emotional caretaker for his ex-wife and two daughters, who call him around the clock with one fake crisis after the other. Something about this role is part of his self-definition.

The movie, in terms of story, is about the development of this relationship, but it’s not the usual relationship story, in that we have no particular investment in whether the couple stays together or separates. We’re just watching. The true relationship that matters in “Gloria Bell” is the one between Gloria and us. We care about her. If this guy turns out to be good for her, then we’re in favor of him, but if he doesn’t, then he can go. And this attitude ref lects Gloria’s, as well. She’s not desperate or insecure. She has a life, one way or the other, and her sense of self-worth is not on the table.