BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

PG, 125 minutes. Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. The chaotic, pushy remake of Disney’s 1991 screen musical “Beauty and the Beast” stresses the challenges of adapting a success in one form (animation) for another (live-action). We’re in for a long line of Disney remakes in the coming years: Everything from “Dumbo” to “Aladdin” is headed for a wallet near you, banking on nostalgia and brand recognition. The financial wallop of the recent, pretty good live-action “Jungle Book” redo, and the live-action “Cinderella” before that, set a high bar of corporate expectation. “Beauty and the Beast” will no doubt please the stockholders. It’s just not a very good movie, is all. Why? The high points of director Bill Condon’s resume suggest he was the right person for this big-budget remake. The maker of “Gods and Monsters” and “Kinsey” possesses a basic understanding of the musical genre’s building blocks, given his success with “Dreamgirls.” And since he made one of the “Twilight” movies, “Breaking Dawn: Part I” (which he himself called “a disaster”), Condon is certainly familiar with the live-action/ digital effects mashup currently overwhelming contemporary screen fantasies of all kinds. The new movie is more of a grating disappointment, despite its best supporting turns, human and animatronic. Condon races through the story beats at an unvarying pace, usually with his camera too close to the performers while the digital effects overwhelm the screen. Emma Watson makes for a genial, bland-ish Belle, the freakish outsider in her provincial French village because of her interest in books and her indifference to the local hunky baritone, Gaston (Luke Evans). Underneath the digital fur and digital roars, Dan Stevens as the Beast, the transformed prince working on a rose-petaled deadline to become human again, locates some moments of pathos that stick. The problems here, I think, are weirdly simple. The movie takes our knowledge and our interest in the material for granted. It zips from one number to another, throwing a ton of frenetically edited eye candy at the screen, charmlessly. — Michael Phillips, Chicago Tribune

BORN IN CHINA

1/2 G, 76 minutes. Through today only at Lisbon. Still playing at Mystic Luxury Cinemas. “Born in China” is the latest installment in the “Disneynature” documentary series. It’s “Planet Earth” aimed at younger audiences, but any nature lovers can find enjoyment here, especially in the stunning cinematography. While other installments have focused on specific species and eco-systems, “Born in China,” directed by Lu Chuan, gets up close and personal with some of the unique species found in China — pandas, snow leopards, cranes, Chiru antelope, and golden monkeys. Chuan’s team follows these incredible animals through the seasons and throughout the circle of life while incorporating Chinese spiritual beliefs about life and death. John Krasinski

does his best Sir David Attenborough as the narrator of “Born in China,” though he doesn’t achieve that singular mix of gravitas and cheeky wit that the “Life” and “Planet Earth” legend brings to those classic nature documentaries. Krasinski’s vocal stylings are perfectly homey and serviceable for the task of guiding us through the lives of these special animals. The footage captured is breathtaking for its access and intimacy to these incredible creatures. A few outtakes during the credits offer a look inside the production process, which involves both stationary secret cameras attached to rocks and the like, as well as production crews trekking out into the wilderness to capture images. The small taste of behind-the-scenes information is so fascinating that you’d almost want to watch an entire documentary just about this process. The drama captured is remarkable, from a territorial snow leopard standoff to the first steps of a baby panda and the antics of a group of young golden monkeys — though it’s clear that

some of these interactions have been coaxed together by creative editors for maximum narrative enjoyment. The editors weave stories worthy of any Disney classic — Tao Tao the golden monkey is shunned by his family after the arrival of his baby sister, but his peers, the Lost Boys, don’t offer much solace either. Dawa the snow leopard hunts ferociously to provide for her cubs, but is it enough? Ya Ya the panda carefully guides her baby, Mei Mei, through the process of growing up. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service

THE BOSS BABY

PG, 97 minutes. Through today only at Stonington. Still playing at Waterford, Westbrook, Lisbon. The idea of a baby (voiced by Alec Baldwin) who is more worried about the formula for a good stock market buy than the formula he drinks has potential. A genius baby hiding his abilities is the set-up for a lot of potential plot points. But Michael McCullers’ script, based on the book by Marla Frazee, takes the least interesting option. Even in the flexible world of animation, the idea behind “Boss Baby” is too convoluted and confusing to be interesting. Tim (Miles Christopher Bakshi) is convinced he has the perfect life. When he’s not imagining himself on a wild adventure or living a spectacular life, his parents treat him with waves of love and affection. The idea of a boy who can’t stop daydreaming is interesting but done far better in the 1954 cartoon “From A to Z-Z-Z-Z.” The life Tim loves so much changes when a baby brother arrives one day. In this world, it is a taxi driver who delivers the new bundles of joy. This is no ordinary baby brother but a representative of a mysterious baby corporation made up of serious minded babies. Other than working in cubicles, their purpose is not clear. It seems their only mission is to stop a major corporation from launching a new product that will transfer all parental love to their pets. Tim’s parents work for the corporation that is causing the baby’s so many sleepless nights. The only way Tim can win back the love his parents have shifted to Boss Baby is to help the suit-wearing infant stop the evil corporation’s plan. — Rick Bentley, Fresno Bee

THE CIRCLE

PG-13, 110 minutes. Through today only at Stonington, Waterford. Still playing at Westbrook, Lisbon. A woman lands a dream job at a powerful tech company called the Circle, only to uncover a nefarious agenda that will affect the lives of her Dystopian tech drama “The Circle” capitalizes on the exploding role of technology in our lives, seeking to capture the zeitgeist while grappling with the heavy duty issues of the day. It’s a noble, if failed effort, because ultimately, the film is all buzzwords and no substance. It’s based on Dave Eggers’ novel, and Eggers himself adapted the book for the screen with the film’s director, James Ponsoldt. Ponsoldt’s previous films have been intimate two-handers, from the alcoholism drama “Smashed” and high school romance “The Spectacular Now,” to the excellent David Foster Wallace biopic “The End of the Tour.” As we discover in “The Circle,” there have been some glitches in scaling up. There are too few characters and they’re all poorly established, sketchy ciphers and stereotypes, lacking depth and nuance. The story follows a young woman, Mae (Emma Watson), who lands her dream job at tech giant The Circle, which is behind the social networking site TruYou. As she soon discovers, things are a lot more complicated than nostrings-attached parties and perks. Much of the problem with “The Circle” is with the character of Mae herself. She’s never established as a fully formed person, so she becomes an empty vessel for the ideas of whomever she’s around. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service

THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

1/2 PG-13, 136 minutes. Through today only at Waterford. Still playing at Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. “The Fast and the Furious” hasn’t become a billion-dollar global franchise because of its scintillating dialogue and high-minded drama. It’s all about the cars, the action, the international settings and the good-looking cast. So don’t give too much thought to the story holes and convoluted plot in “The Fate of the Furious ,” the eighth installment in the saga. If things don’t add up or characters killed off in previous films suddenly re-emerge, just go with it, knowing that it’s leading up to an epic final chase across a remote Russian ice field between sports cars, Humvees and a nuclear submarine. Suspension of disbelief is required for these films. Remember in “Furious 7” when parachute-equipped cars fell from a cargo plane and the drivers were shown “steering” the airborne vehicles? Here, they speed across ice with unbelievable accuracy. One character even wakeboards through the tundra on a detached car door. “F8” begins with Dom (Vin Diesel) and Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) honeymooning in Havana. Charmed by the city’s car culture, they’re soon in a street race — a thrilling sequence with motorcycles swooping in to stop traffic as the drivers speed by. After finishing with his car on fire, Dom is approached by the mysterious Cipher (Charlize Theron), who blackmails him into betraying his colleagues and working for her. Despite her ridiculous hairdo and having to utter such lines as “Your team’s about to go up against the only thing they can’t handle: You,” Theron is a great villain. She anchors the story with her gravitas by making Cipher a convincingly capable and determined foe. Meanwhile, Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) taps Dom and his ace driving team to help recover a missing

electro-magnetic pulse weapon. The job brings them to Berlin, where Dom abandons his crew and links up with Cipher. Hobbs ends up in jail, practically cellmates with Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham), the villain from “Furious 7.” They’re set free by secret operative Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell), who wants the adversaries to work together to find Cipher and Dom. — Sandy Cohen, Associated Press

THEIR FINEST

1/2 R, 117 minutes. Through today only at Madison Art Cinemas. Screen chemistry is an odd thing; often you only notice it when it isn’t there. (See: far too many Hollywood romantic comedies.) But “Their Finest,” an utterly charming film set in World War II-era London, contains a textbook example. Gemma Arterton plays Catrin Cole, a young advertising copywriter hired by the British Ministry of Information to write “women’s dialogue” for wartime propaganda feature films; Sam Claflin is Tom Buckley, a wry fellow screenwriter who’s not sure that her presence is necessary. Catrin’s married, Tom’s not — and so first they become co-workers (he grudgingly admits, eventually, that she’s “doing a good job”), then friends. Watching them, you start noticing how he looks at her like she’s a fascinating puzzle that he’s trying to figure out, and how she blushes just a bit when he’s around, and how effortlessly these two actors convey that they belong together. It’s one of many pleasures in Lone Scherfig’s film, based on a 2009 novel by Lissa Evans and drenched in a sweet nostalgia that only very rarely tips into sentimentality. The plot’s mostly centered on the making of one movie, based on a true incident involving a pair of twin sisters who set out in their father’s shabby boat to help evacuate wounded soldiers at Dunkirk. It’s a tale that, as the executives at the Ministry gleefully observe, has everything: “Authenticity, optimism and a dog.” We watch the casting process (Bill Nighy, eyebrows perpetually raised, is a delight as a pompous veteran actor), the location shoot (note the 1940s version of CGI), and the way that the filmmakers and cast form an impromptu family. Along the way, we’re reminded of the new roles that women took on during that time, and how the shadow of war affected every day and every life, even as they soldiered on. And there’s one scene, where Sam sits moodily smoking one evening, and Catrin appears behind him as if caught in a moonlit dream, and … well, that’s why we watch movies, isn’t it? — Moira Macdonald, Seattle Times

GIFTED

1/2 PG-13, 101 minutes. Westbrook, Lisbon. It often seems that Hollywood filmmaking trends too often to the “more is more” philosophy: more special effects, more stars, more spectacle. Alternatively, there’s the micro budget “less is more” of the indie scene. Like Goldilocks, you might be looking for something not more or less, but “just right.” “Gifted” is a rare example of the kind of mid-budget family dramedies that used to populate movie theaters but are now hard to come by. It even stars the class president of cinematic spectacle, Captain America himself. Chris Evans, putting down the star-emblazoned shield, demonstrates his chops beyond the “Avengers” universe in this exceedingly pleasant tale of a young prodigy and the uncle who encourages her to just be a kid. The story is an amalgamation of familiar story tropes and character types — the custodial courtroom drama, the precocious whizkid, the odd couple, unconventional parent-child relationship. It executes all of these elements very well, with a distinct sense of wry sweetness throughout, thanks to director Marc Webb, known for “(500) Days of Summer.” Evans anchors the film as Frank, opposite the preternaturally talented Mckenna Grace, already an industry vet at age 10, as his niece Mary. They share a cheerfully relaxed shaggy dog existence in Tampa, Fla., replete with boat trips, a one-eyed cat named Fred and a beloved neighbor, Roberta (Octavia Spencer). When Frank sends Mary to school, Roberta throws a fit. She’s worried that Mary will be discovered, and taken away. Mary’s not a mutant, but a math genius, which the film presents as a genetic gift from her mother, Diane. After Diane’s unfortunate demise, Frank has taken it upon himself to give his niece a real childhood, with friends and public school and pets, something Diane was denied by their overbearing and brilliant mathematician mother Evelyn (Lindsay Duncan), projecting her own unrealized dreams on her progeny. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service

GOING IN STYLE

PG-13, 96 minutes. Stonington, Westbrook. Though Zach Braff’s intermittently jaunty “Going in Style” is primarily a comedy, you watch it with a wistful eye; the irresistible trio at its center can’t help but remind us that they won’t be here forever. Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine and Alan Arkin (Freeman, the youngest, turns 80 this summer) were all acting in movies and television long before director Braff (“Garden State”) was even born, and the old-pro breeze they create here is something to be treasured. There’s a scene, late in the film, where the three swagger drunkenly through a park singing, and you wish Braff could have held on to the moment just a bit longer — and that every movie could, if only for a minute, find this sort of uncomplicated joy. That’s not to say that “Going in Style” is a masterpiece, or even especially good: Based (quite loosely) on the 1979 George Burns/Art Carney/Lee Strasberg film of the same title, it’s an agreeably generic mishmash of every old-guys-pull-one-last-heist movie you’ve ever seen. The plot — in which former steelworkers, longtime buddies and Brooklyn neighbors Willie (Freeman), Joe (Caine) and Al (Arkin) scheme to rob the bank that robbed them of their pension checks — is predictable from beginning to end, featuring at least one hole even deeper than Freeman’s famous voice. But Braff wisely makes the film short and snappy, keeps the aren’t-old-people-cute-whenthey-swear stuff to a minimum, and lets the fun that his actors are having shine through. I’m hoping that Freeman, Caine and Arkin all have plenty of movies — and meatier roles — in their futures. In the meantime, it’s a low-key pleasure to hang out with these guys, even in a movie that’s only just good enough. As with all great actors, they don’t only become friends with each other on-screen, but with us. — Moira Macdonald, Seattle Times

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY, VOL.2

1/2 PG-13, 138 minutes. Niantic, Mystic Luxury Cinemas, Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. When the first “Guardians of the Galaxy” came out three years ago, it was a minor revelation. Here was a comic-book movie with characters few

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