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movies at local cinemas
ARTHUR THE KING
HH 1/2
PG-13, 107 minutes. Through today only at Mystic, Waterford. Still playing at Westbrook, Lisbon.
Move over Messi — there’s a new canine thespian in town. Ukai, the Australian shepherd/border collie/bouvier mix who stars opposite Mark Wahlberg in the new film “Arthur the King,” undertakes a performance that is more physically rigorous, if not dramatically suspenseful, than the one delivered by the French border collie who appeared in the Oscar-winning film “Anatomy of a Fall.” This inspirational film is based on a true story, originally a quirky human interest sports news item about an Ecuadorian stray dog who bonded with a team of Swedish adventure racers in the middle of a grueling six-day trek, following them to the finish line, and eventually back to Sweden with racer Mikael Lindnord. The story became a media sensation. Lindnord’s memoir “Arthur: The Dog who Crossed the Jungle to Find a Home” serves as the basis for “Arthur the King,” adapted by screenwriter Michael Brandt and directed by Simon Cellan Jones, who also directed star Mark Wahlberg in “The Family Plan.” This story of perseverance, suffering and salvation though physical challenges is right in Wahlberg’s current wheelhouse. This is fairly standard, and often treacly heartwarming dog fare, calling to mind other adventurous pups in TV and film but edged up with an adventure sports milieu and vibrant, handheld cinematography by Jacques Jouffret that gives the film a more adult, action-oriented look and feel. Suffering may be Wahlberg’s raison d’etre, but this is a lighter and more uplifting mode for the actor, who clearly enjoys the extreme physicality of the performance, even if the emotional tenor is well within his established star persona. And if you’re a dog person, it will be impossible to resist the tale of Arthur and his knights of extreme sports. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
CABRINI HH
PG-13, 145 minutes. Through today only at Lisbon. Still playing at Westbrook. “Cabrini,” an illuminating if workmanlike portrait of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, tells the story of the woman behind the name that has graced hundreds of shrines, hospitals, parks and schools around the world. In this handsomely filmed chronicle of Cabrini’s rise — from a small parish in Lombardy, Italy, to late-19th-century New York City — a woman who at first glance was a modest, physically frail nun emerges as a fiercely determined figure who battled sexism, xenophobia and her own ailments to give radical meaning to the words “on Earth as it is in heaven.” As Pope Leo XIII tells her in one of their several respectful but spiky conversations, “I can’t tell where your faith ends and your ambition begins.” Pope Leo is played in a wonderfully warm performance by the great Giancarlo Giannini, who gives “Cabrini” a jolt of life every time he appears on-screen. David Morse and John Lithgow also show up, as a recalcitrant archbishop and peevish New York mayor, respectively; they, along with various priests and bullying naysayers, exemplify the male power structure that Cabrini routinely confronted and shrewdly disarmed as she sought to treat New York’s impoverished immigrant population with generosity and respect.
— Ann Hornaday, Washington Post
A CAT’S LIFE PG, 85 minutes. Through today only at Lisbon.
A Parisian girl named Clémence forms a bond with a kitten named Lou after finding it in her attic. When her family takes a vacation in the countryside, Lou’s natural curiosity leads to adventures in the woods. A review wasn’t available.
DUNE: PART TWO HHHH
PG-13, 166 minutes. Through today only at Mystic, Madison. Still playing at Waterford, Westbrook, Lisbon.
There’s a moment late in Denis Villeneuve’s sweeping sci-fi epic “Dune: Part Two,” when the camera lingers on a hand emerging out of desert sand, forming into a fist. It’s a small but apt visual metaphor for this sequel’s story, written by Villeneuve and Jon Spaihts, which takes all of the foundational exposition carefully laid in “Dune: Part One,” and kicks the plot of Frank Herbert’s 1965 novel into spice-powered motion. In “Dune: Part Two,” power, and violence, rise from the desert sand of the planet Arrakis, where young Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) has found his true path among the desert people known as Fremen. This film is a spectacular feat of science-fiction filmmaking, marrying immersive world-building with engrossing storytelling. It thrums and vibrates, the giant booms of Hans Zimmer’s score rumbling underneath the breathtakingly monumental images crafted by cinematographer Greig Fraser. The visual effects and production and costume design are seamless; simultaneously organic and mechanical, both uncanny and utilitarian. The color, the sound, the sheer weight of it makes for a visual and sonic feast laden with lore.
— Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE HH
PG-13, 115 minutes. Mystic, Waterford, Westbrook, Lisbon.
It doesn’t feel good to beat up on a movie like “Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire,” which is a film with the right intentions: to entertain families looking for spectacle that will please both kids and their Gen X/millennial parents. It’s at least slightly better than its ghoulish predecessor, “Ghostbusters: Afterlife,” because at least there aren’t any holograms of deceased actors in this one, which is a relief. Still, there’s very little opportunity for critical examination of this sequel to the “lega-sequel” of the “Ghostbusters” franchise, which already has one failed reboot on its record. What else could one possibly say about “Ghostbusters” in general, and this perfectly fine, but incredibly dull installment specifically? It does exactly what it needs to do for die-hard fans and families seeking a night out at the movies. As a cultural industrial product, it’s emblematic of Hollywood’s obsession with reboots, nostalgia and IP, but that subject has already been talked to death and doesn’t bear repeating. Those arguments aren’t worth making again, especially when “Frozen Empire” is such an uninspiring example. In its favor, it does try to do something that is both familiar and expansive. The script is by Gil Kenan and Jason Reitman, the son of original “Ghostbusters” director Ivan Reitman, who passed in 2022 (the film is dedicated “For Ivan”). Though Jason Reitman helmed 2021’s “Afterlife,” Kenan (“Monster House,” “Poltergeist”) steps behind the camera here. It may be a new generation of Ghostbusters, but the family of the late Egon Spengler find themselves back in New York, in that firehouse headquarters, following “Afterlife’s” jaunt to Oklahoma. In fact, the whole crew finds themselves in New York, not just Callie (Carrie Coon), and her kids, Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and Phoebe (McKenna Grace), but also Callie’s boyfriend Gary (Paul Rudd), who has joined the phantom-fighting family. Even the kids’ pals Podcast (Logan Kim) and Lucky (Celeste O’Connor) are also in New York, interning with the original Ghostbusters, Ray Stanz (Dan Aykroyd) and Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson). Yep, the gang’s all here, every last surviving Ghostbuster, including Peter Venkman (Bill Murray), and Annie Potts too, plus a few new characters to boot.
— Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
GODZILLA X KONG: THE NEW EMPIRE
PG-13, 115 minutes. Mystic, Waterford, Westbrook, Lisbon, Madison, United Westerly.
As the old saying goes, there are two kinds of people
on this Earth: Those who like their movies with a giant evil ape swinging a vertebrae like a lasso while riding a kaiju controlled by a crystal, and those who don’t. The former types will have much to cheer in “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire,” a ground-stomping, radiation-spewing monster-mash feast. Technically, we are not on this Earth. We’re inside it, in a subterranean jungle world that gives the movie’s filmmakers an exotic, untrampled realm in which they try to chart some new ground for a pair of well-traveled beasts. But aside from the film’s strong Jules Verne streak, “Godzilla x Kong” is no drastic pivot for its long-inthe-tooth monsters. For that, you were better off catching last year’s Toho-made “Godzilla Minus One,” which grippingly returned to Godzilla’s post-WWII origins and in the process won the 70-year-old lizard its first Oscar. Other, less respectable creatures might have used an Academy Award as a springboard for more dramatic roles. But not Godzilla. No costume dramas for him, unless you count the robotic fist that Kong gets outfitted with midway through the movie. No, we are back in the pure spectacle territory that has traditionally been Godzilla and King Kong’s stomping ground. It’s even a very small title tweak from the previous installment, “Godzilla vs. Kong,” to “Godzilla x Kong.” This one promises a team-up, with the frenemies joining forces to fight a mutual foe. If things keep up this way, we can look forward to “Godzilla xoxo Kong.” — Jake Coyle, Associated Press
IMAGINARY
PG-13, 104 minutes. Through today only at Lisbon.
A woman returns to her childhood home to discover that the imaginary friend she left behind is very real and unhappy that she abandoned him. A review wasn’t available.
IMMACULATE
HHH
R, 89 minutes. Through today only at Westbrook. Still playing at Waterford, Lisbon.
Blood-soaked and candlelit, Michael Mohan’s “Immaculate” disabuses the notion that any conception is ever without sin. Starring Sydney Sweeney (who also produced the film), this cheeky, freaky, lushly designed horror movie presents as a giallo nunsploitation riff, but the script, by Andrew Lobel, is much more “Rosemary’s Baby” than it is “The Devils.” Still, Mohan wants “Immaculate” to be an exploitation flick, and so it is an exploitation flick, which means he has adorned Lobel’s script in texture, atmosphere and viscera, taking the genre seriously while also applying an ironic wit. He skews toward modern horror filmmaking, but has the references and deep film knowledge to make “Immaculate” feel more like a long-lost video nasty dredged up out of an obscure archive. Sweeney stars as Sister Cecilia, a doe-eyed and docile devotee from Detroit who has traveled to Italy at the behest of a Father Tedeschi (Álvaro Morte) to take her vows at a secluded convent where she will care for elderly nuns. Soon, shockingly, she’s exhibiting pregnancy symptoms, her womb thrumming with a whooshing heartbeat under a sonogram machine. Her spontaneous conception is seen as a miracle, the resurrection of God. She has no choice but to carry this pregnancy to term, surrounded by jealous novitiates, senile nuns, controlling male leadership and a secret sect of the sisterhood who wear crimson shrouds over their faces. It’s something of a wonder to watch Sweeney as she undertakes Sister Cecilia’s journey, transforming from a meek naif into something unexpected and wild, her pious discipline falling away with every indignity. As this swift, 89-minute film builds to an absolutely feral climax, we do believe her, perhaps most of all in the film’s final, jaw-dropping moments, as she embodies a pure animal honesty. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
KUNG FU PANDA 4 HH
PG, 94 minutes. Mystic, Waterford, Westbrook, Lisbon, Madison.
The “Kung Fu Panda” movies have always been a reliable name when it comes to animated franchises. A distinctive style, star-studded voice cast, and the winning Jack Black voicing Po, the roly-poly, dumpling-appreciating Dragon Warrior, is usually a recipe for success. Or at least it has been. “Kung Fu Panda 2” was even nominated for a best animated feature Oscar in 2012. It’s been eight years since we last saw our old pal Po, in 2016’s “Kung Fu Panda 3,” and this new installment, “Kung Fu Panda 4,” is co-directed by journeyman animation director Mike Mitchell and Stephanie Ma Stine, making her feature debut. Franchise writers Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger return, with Darren Lemke rounding out the writing team. The film coasts on the elements that have worked before: Black’s vocal charms and the franchise’s signature style, which is inspired by various Chinese arts from painting to music to film. It’s still a fun, beautiful animated world to experience, but the rushed and harried story, over-stuffed with plot and characters, gets short shrift thanks to the brisk 94 minute run time. The film also falls prey to a few well-trodden tropes, so what used to be fresh and singular now feels like every other animated sequel.
— Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL R, 93 minutes. Through today only at Waterford.
In 1977, a live television broadcast goes horribly wrong, unleashing evil into the nation’s living rooms. A review wasn’t available.
LOVE LIES BLEEDING HHH 1/2
R, 104 minutes. Through today only at Lisbon.
The first time we glimpse Jackie (Katy O’Brian) on screen in “Love Lies Bleeding,” it is not particularly auspicious. But we haven’t yet seen Jackie through the eyes of Lou (Kristen Stewart), and that’s the only gaze that matters in this film. When Lou — the manager at a muscle-head gym — catches sight of Jackie prowling among the weight machines, skin gleaming, her powerfully muscular body reflected in the mirror, almost glowing, it’s like director Rose Glass is letting us in on a lusty little secret. Lou’s desire is so palpable you can smell it, and lucky for her, the feeling is mutual. It’s 1989 in an anonymous Southwestern town, and Jackie is only drifting through on her way to a bodybuilding competition in Las Vegas. She’s seemingly dropped from the galaxies like one of the shooting stars that streaks across the vast night sky, and even in the desolate gym parking lot, their chemistry is supernova explosive. But the reality of life in this small, rough town has an insistent, inevitable darkness. There’s Lou’s battered sister Beth (Jena Malone), and her philandering, abusive husband JJ (Dave Franco). There’s the FBI agents who would really like to talk to Lou about her estranged father Lou Sr. (Ed Harris), who owns the gun range where Jackie has picked up a few waitressing shifts. There’s Daisy (Anna Baryshnikov), a ditzy, nagging townie, who pops up, keening for attention, at the worst times. There are too many connections and coincidences swirling around them, and as Lou and Jackie collide, sexually, there looms a bloodier collision on the horizon: sheer ominousness telegraphed in Lou’s red-drenched flashbacks.
— Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service
ONE LIFE H H H
PG, 114 minutes. Through today only at Madison.
The cinematic image of children boarding trains in World War II is typically a traumatic one. But in “One Life,” directed by James Hawes, it is a wildly, blindly hopeful image, as children board trains in Prague, bound for England, escaping dire conditions in refugee camps and the encroaching Nazi occupation, seemingly just steps away. “One Life” is the story of Sir Nicholas “Nicky” Winton, a British stockbroker and humanitarian, who in 1939, helped to arrange the escape of 669 children from Czechoslovakia. Written by Lucinda Coxon and Nick Drake, the film is based on a book by Winton’s daughter, Barbara Winton, “If It’s Not Impossible … The Life of Sir Nicholas Winton.” The film marks the feature directorial debut of Hawes, who directed the first season of the Apple TV+ spy series “Slow Horses.” “One Life” weaves together two periods in Winton’s life, 50 years apart. Sir Anthony Hopkins plays Winton in 1987, enjoying a life of peaceful retirement with his wife, Grete (Lena Olin), in Maidenhead. At the behest of Grete, while cleaning out his office, he uncovers his old scrapbook containing the records and remnants of his pre-war endeavors helping refugee children. His efforts have gone unrecognized in the years since, the children scattered to foster families across Britain, but he remains haunted by their faces, snapped in photographs that he pores over with a magnifying glass. Johnny Flynn plays Winton five decades earlier, a stern and quiet young man, the son of German Jewish immigrants who converted to Christianity and changed their last name in order to assimilate in England. Concerned with reports from occupied Sudentenland, he takes a leave from his banking job and meets a friend in Prague in order to assist with the refugee efforts. He immediately becomes taken with the cause of evacuating as many children as he can to England. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service