Some memories are too painful for us to carry day to day. There are compartments in our minds where we store our heaviest memories to protect ourselves from despair. This is especially true for traumatic events—happenings so large there’s no control over our reactions. Some people can move on without remembering, but for others, the answers are a necessity to living. They give people the insight they need to know themselves better to heal wounds and move on emotionally.

In “Revoir Paris,” memory is a mystery to be solved. Mia (Virginie Efira) rides her motorcycle all over Paris, searching for answers about a devastating mass shooting at a local bistro. She was there, and she survived, but she can’t seem to remember how. The opening scenes show Mia going about her life, working on the radio, and spending time with her boyfriend Vincent (Grégoire Colin). But later, she’s alone, writing at the bistro. There’s a birthday being celebrated at a neighboring table. The mood is calm and pleasant. She gets ink on her hands from her fountain pen and goes to the bathroom to wash it off. But before Mia can return to her table, she hears gunfire and screaming. The scene, though brief, is appropriately terrifying—it’s not just what we see but what we don’t see. Director Alice Winocour doesn’t show us where the gunshots are coming from, instead focusing on the panic of the bistro staff and guests. The scene cuts before we can see how exactly Mia survived.

Months later, Mia’s life has not returned to normal. She feels distant from her work and Vincent. And so begins her journey to remember the past to move forward. With determination, Mia tries to get answers about where she ended up during the shooting and what happened to the kind cook who held her hand and comforted her. On her journey, she meets and speaks with other survivors of the attack, all struggling in their own way. One woman accuses Mia of barricading herself in the bathroom, refusing to let anyone else in, which Mia doubts despite being unable to prove it. She meets another survivor, a teenager named Félicia (Nastya Golubeva), and they quickly form a bond. Mia has a very different dynamic with another survivor, a banker named Thomas (Benoît Magimel), who is recuperating in the hospital. These connections all bring Mia comfort and help jog her memory.

“Revoir Paris” has a sensitivity to it, a warm texture despite the abundance of cool blue tones. Its somber visual style of the film is reminiscent of Atom Egoyan’s early work with its quiet, confessional tone and vibrant splashes of color. Much like Egoyan’s “Exotica” and “The Sweet Hereafter,” every character in “Revoir Paris” is connected by grief and sadness. The characters often look forward when speaking or look to the camera, allowing us to witness the emotion on their faces. As the story drifts from person to person, face to face, it all begins to feel dreamlike. The image of Mia on her motorcycle only enhances the feeling that we’re drifting, days and nights blurring together. Sometimes the film shifts perspective to other survivors, narrating their feelings and memories. It’s a very human way to explore trauma, reminding us that Mia is one of many hurting.

As Mia, Efira gives a subdued performance enhanced by her expressive face. Much like her previous starring roles in “Benedetta” and “Sybil,” Efira quietly commands the screen. Golubeva is also a standout as Félicia, a young woman with the maturity that comes from actively overcoming trauma. Additionally, Sofia Lesaffre does so much with her small, pivotal role as Nour, a young woman who still works at the bistro after the shooting. 

“Revoir Paris” is a story about people thrown together, forever changed by their time together. In addition to its emotional resonance, the film highlights Paris’ cultural and economic diversity as we watch Mia interact with people she may have never met. Despite the tragedy, “Revoir Paris” is a hopeful film about the healing power of human connection and mutual comfort. It’s the kind of movie that lingers in the mind long after the credits roll.

In theaters now.

“God Is a Bullet” is like a mallet to the back of the head. It’s never subtle, demanding that you know its presence while knocking the taste out of your mouth (none of this, unfortunately, can be counted as a compliment). The film attempts to marry the movements common to grisly road movies and grimy action thrillers while aiming to shake the religious fiber of its morally upright protagonist, Bob Hightower (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), a local sheriff’s deputy searching for his kidnapped daughter, Gabi (Chloe Guy). There are, to be sure, moments of shock. But they offer very little awe. 

The opening is a broken canvas of dispersed events: In one instance, a girl with a pink balloon, awaiting her mother outside a supermarket, is snatched by a group of Satanists in a black van. She will grow into Case (Maika Monroe), a blond, tattooed, heroin-addled acolyte of cult leader Cyrus (Karl Glusman). We then jump to some unknowable time after, during Christmas, where, in a ghastly scene akin to “A Clockwork Orange,” this same cadre of goons rape and murder Hightower’s ex-wife, kill her husband, and flee with his daughter. Every shot from a double-barrel shotgun that sends Hightower’s ex-wife’s limp body thudding into a pool is more garish than the last and is equally as incomprehensible in its tenor as the tawdry plot of the movie. 

The first few minutes, a hopeless, slap-dash attempt to transport viewers to the heart of this gruesome movie, signal a strained desire by writer/director Nick Cassavetes to pull tension from the collision of crushing realism and a knowing formalism. 

The film’s discordant tones begin when the naive Bob recruits the worldly Case—she recently left the group and is presently in rehab—to track Cyrus’ gang. They hit the road in a pickup truck with a cache of guns, arriving at a desert house belonging to the Ferryman (Jamie Foxx), a tattoo artist with an amputated hand and the kind of white splotches on his face common to those with vitiligo. The makeup used for Foxx simply looks crummy. The same goes for the tattoos on all the characters, which are so blackened and well-defined you’re left wondering if these marauders get touched up every couple of months. Those are some smaller swings for authenticity that ultimately feel like glaring affections.

To a point, Cassavetes wants you to know you’re watching a movie. He inserts explicit photography featuring bloody Satanic sacrifices, which remind viewers that the film is adapted from Boston Teran’s same-title book but not based on true events. He and editor Bella Erikson also slow fight scenes, tinged by Mozart, to break the spell of this naturalistic road movie. Over-the-top but committed performances by Glusman, for instance, and a host of gang members, also push the boundaries of belief. 

You can nearly sense how “God Is a Bullet” could be an intriguing study of religious faith amid an unspeakably terrible world. But Cassavetes’ distended script interrupts the rhythm and pace of his storytelling. There’s an entire subplot involving January Jones as the trophy wife of the town’s sheriff (Paul Johansson) that could be entirely excised, and you wouldn’t miss a thing. The backgrounding of Cyrus also begs to be trimmed.

In trying to intertwine the visual feel of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” and the first season of “True Detective,” the film loses focus. Its violence against women, while certainly an intended critique of this barren, apathetic desert landscape, succumbs to gratuitousness. Cassavetes’ artsy sheen doesn’t help matters either. Instead, the operatic, final confrontation between Bob, Case, and Cyrus is brutalist miserablism disguised as elevated style.     

The only standout figure among the bunch is Monroe, playing Case. The actress previously stunned in Chloe Okuno’s surveillance thriller “Watcher,” and it’s a wonder to see her attempt a vastly different character here, moving from the secluded housewife in a strange land to this free-spirited alpha woman. Monroe’s every head tilt, her grounded deliveries, and broad physicality achieve the exact balance between sophistication, brokenness, and deadliness Cassavetes desperately wants.

Monroe is ultimately entrusted with landing the film’s final false note, a bid for normalcy that appears to counter her character’s deepest desires. It’s a groan-inducing end whose neatness leaves one wanting more than the superficiality Cassavetes provides. If God is a bullet, it can’t come fast enough. 

Now playing in theaters. 

The last few years have been a kind of golden age for movies and TV about middle school. High school has always gotten more attention from filmmakers, possibly because most would prefer to forget the awkward transition from childhood to adolescence. However, those awkward if not painful moments that define middle school can make for great drama and rich comedy (“Eighth Grade” and the Hulu series “Pen15” come to mind as great examples that do both). 

“World’s Best” is more of a family film than the aforementioned film and series but it is no less insightful about the ‘tween years. Set in contemporary New Jersey, it tells the story of Prem Patel (played by a charming Manny Magnus), a driven math whiz who is gearing up for the mathlympics competition. His single mom Priya (Punam Patel) is doting and supportive, but she also feels like a complete human being, not just the “mom”. 

This is expressed nicely when she takes Prem into her own memories of how she met his late father Suresh (played by Utkarsh Ambudkar who also co-wrote the screenplay), who Prem is shocked to learn was a local legend in the underground hip hop scene. This is where “World’s Best” reveals itself to be a hip-hop musical. Suresh begins visiting his son and begins passing on his evangelical passion for hip-hop. 

Much to Priya’s dismay, Prem enters himself in the talent show and his interest in performing threatens to usurp his passion for math. At this point, “World’s Best” also seems to borrow ever so slightly from the superhero film, particularly the origin story. Prem’s daddy issues are reminiscent of most of the MCU’s characters, particularly his struggle to reconcile what his parents want for him versus what he wants for himself. Along the way there are the usual bits of middle school drama, specifically the betrayal of friends who drift away from each other and into opposing cliques. 

“World’s Best” succeeds thanks to the brisk pacing at 100 minutes and Roshan Sethi’s deft handling of the ups and downs of ‘tweenhood. The emotions are earned, and the playful tone accommodates the more serious reveals and complications nicely. Ambudkar and Magnus’ chemistry go a long way toward making the film work. You believe them as father and son and their joy at making music together is infectious. 

Now on Disney+.

In 1970, “Midnight Cowboy,” starring Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, won the Academy Award for Best Picture. Two years after the beloved classic family musical “The Sound of Music” won, how does an X-rated film about a man who aspires to be a male prostitute with rich women, but ends up developing a tender relationship with another downtrodden man, suddenly become an Oscar darling? The documentary “Desperate Souls, Lost City and the Legend of the Midnight Cowboy” attempts to investigate the film’s origins and explain how and why this movie resonated with the world the way it did.

Wrapped loosely in the packaging of a documentary, “Desperate Souls, Lost City and the Legend of the Midnight Cowboy,” is written and directed by Nancy Buirski. It features Jon Voight, Bob Balaban, Brian de Palma, Charles Kaiser, Lucy Sante, Brenda Vaccaro, the voice of John Schlesinger, and many others who either were in “Midnightt Cowboy,” involved in its production, or were admirers of the film.

When the documentary opens with a closeup of Jon Voight, recalling an existential crisis by director John Schlesinger after the completion of “Midnight Cowboy,” the film almost implicitly states that it will be about the creation of that film. Yet, “Desperate Souls” only lightly touches on the creation of “Cowboy.” Instead, this film spends most of its time investigating the era during which it was made. “Midnight Cowboy” lived at the nexus of a war, the civil rights movement, and the early beginnings of the gay rights movement.

The first examination in the film is how the Vietnam War framed it. The war is cited as the major factor in turning the world from the happy-go-lucky land of movie musicals to gritty reality-based films like “Midnight Cowboy” that did not flinch from portraying the city of New York in its reality. Schlesinger began in Europe and was exposed to the work of other creatives like John Richardson, who used a certain reality in making their films, a style Schlesinger adopted.

When the film abruptly shifts gears to speaking about John’s homosexuality and the impact of the world upon him, we begin to understand the motivations that he and writer Walter Salt had in creating the relationship between the movie’s stars. Schlesinger, a closeted homosexual who flirted with communism and was nearly banned by Hollywood, was buoyed by the confidence he received with “Midnight Cowboy” would later release “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” a story that depicts what was called one of the most open and honest on-screen portrayals of homosexuality.

The documentary then shifts to a discussion of the civil rights movement, starting with the death of JFK. In one scene, Charles Kaiser notes that the gay pride movement “co-opted” the ideals and used them “unfortunately, better than the civil rights movement” in furthering their agenda.

If this review seems a little scattered and clumsy, it is because it is an intentional recreation of the tone and direction of “Desperate Souls.” The movie’s direction is not unfocused but is very non-linear in its presentation, allowing it to meander from subject to subject with loose connections. One of the interviewees, Lucy Sante, even audibly wonders how he got on a certain train of thought as he is relating a story.

The film takes only a moment to discuss the success of its source material. In fact, it is only at the end of the movie that “Desperate Souls” reveals that “Midnight Cowboy” won three Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay. Instead, the documentary spends too much time looking at the world around Schlesinger’s drama. Certainly, Schlesinger, Salt, and James Leo Herlihy (the author of the sourcebook) are the desperate souls, and New York is the lost city, and both are thoroughly investigated here. However, when you use the words “The Legend of Midnight Cowboy” in a film’s title, it only seems logical that more time should be spent on the movie itself.

Now playing in select theaters. 

From a producer of “Spring Breakers” and “The Virgin Suicides,” writer/director Jordan Gertner’s “Sheroes” brings us into the lives of four thick-as-thieves friends who hit Thailand for a hedonistic adventure. The quartet quickly finds themselves in over their heads when one gets kidnapped by a notorious drug lord. To fight and protect one another, each young lady brings a unique set of skills to a heart-pumping battle for survival. At least, it should be.

Starring Isabelle Fuhrman (Ezra), Skai Jackson (Daisy), Sasha Luss (Diamond), and Wallis Day (Ryder), “Sheroes” is another addition to the genre of girl power road films like “Girls Trip” and the upcoming feature “Joy Ride.” The concept alone means that this story can occasionally be fiery fun. “Sheroes” has some fantastic stunts and some beautifully shot landscapes, coupled with a crude yet crafty screenplay with lines like, “You’re going to use your vagina to get us out of here,” “F**k—because I’m a girl,” or “This is not a game, and you’re not Wonder Woman.” 

But the plot for “Sheroes” could have been fleshed out better to be more grounded and consistent. At times, it feels a bit laborious until Daisy is kidnapped; at that point, the tempo picks up, and the plot becomes more interesting. 

What would have happened if the one Black character was part of the rescue squad and not the one who was kidnapped? Skai Jackson is mostly known for being a Disney actress, and it would have been a nice surprise for her fans to witness her character Daisy kicking butt and taking names. Yet, this responsibility is solely left to the white characters in the film while she portrays the damsel in distress.

The relationship issues between all the characters are only lightly touched upon and, in many instances, never fully resolved. For instance, Daisy and Ryder hook up before the kidnapping, but it comes off as just that … a hook-up. So, when they profess their dying love for each other, one is left dazed and confused about how they got there so quickly.

Jasper and Diamond have an attraction that escalates at warp speed, too, due to the shallow character writing, and although Ezra and Diamond have some issues, that too is never resolved beyond Ezra apologizing for half the film. At least Sasha Luss is a standout as Diamond. She unapologetically embraces Diamond’s complexity and messiness, making her extremely entertaining to watch and the one character who feels whole.

While I applaud Gertner’s attempt to make an action-adventure anthem film for the millennial generation of young women around the globe, “Sheroes” falls prey to too many predictable tropes for action, adventure, thriller, and girl genre films.

In theaters now.