Movie Review: Stormare wants Kinnear to find Duhamel, who’s gone “Off the Grid”

Career bit player Ricky Russert, who was in “I, Tonya” and TV’s “Outer Banks” and even the recent “MacGuyer” reboot , gets a featured role as a villain in “Off the Grid,” a Josh Duhamel star-vehicle about a scientist who MacGuyvers his way out of many a jam with the ruthless goons who want what’s in his head.

Russert isn’t the only villain. In the chain of command, he’s the guy below scientist/project director Greg Kinnear and that scientist answers to murderously impatient oligarch in charge Peter Stormare. But Russert’s Marcus is the trigger man, the “heavy,” the guy with the most black t-shirts, jackets and slimfit jeans.

And to complete the character’s look, Russert made a choice. He went full Jack White — pale, with slippery black hair, everything but the famous hat and more recent rock star dye jobs. I kept expecting him to break into “a seven nation army couldn’t hold me back.”

The movie’s generic in the extreme, a bore that sent a mostly-American cast off to Italy where the production does its best to pass for the American Southeast, some easy drive or other from Memphis (Louisiana). But if the players got a paid Italian vacation out of it, the viewer’s allowed to hope for off-the-wall turns, or jokes. Because seriously, this isn’t serious.

There’s a revolutionary energy device that Belcor is close to getting. Or was until Guy Who Knows Stuff (Duhamel) fled rather than let his work be weaponized. Kinnear plays Ranish, the former mentor all-in with Belcor, the company and the fellow who owns it (Stormare).

Mr. “Off the Grid” lives in an aged Quonset hut, mindful of not exposing himself to electronic tracking, careful to park his motorcycle in the woods outside of town when he goes in for “supplies,” a bearded, backpacked Man with No Name.

But his old mentor knows the “Red Bull/dirt bike prepper” well. That’s how Marcus (Russert) is put on the scent.

“YOU’LL find him?” Ranish chuckles. “Not if he finds you first!”

Did anybody explain that this off-the-grid guy has “special skills,” military training or whatnot? If so, I missed it. Because aside from the punji sticks and other boobytraps (yawn) he’s set for any intruders on his turf, he’s tough enough to bust heads if need be.

Our hero is careful enough not to get close to anybody in this sleepy little not-supposed-to-be-Italian town. The college bound tech teen (Michael Zapesotsky) doesn’t need to know his name, just that he can double-check his computer codes, etc. The friendly barmaid/bar-owner Josie (María Elisa Camargo)? Kept at arm’s length.

And yet, he’s still discovered. And damned quickly, it turns out.

Russert gives minion-murdering Marcus a “stands out in a crowd” personality — dolled up in black, not paying for things at the shop, threatening locals, lying to law enforcement and shooting members of the “B-Team” and “C-Team” that’s sent to help him if and when they displease him.

The character should have had a mustache. To twirl. Because Russert serves up a villainous maniacal cackle or two.

The chases — on bike or on foot — are blasé, the action beats largely dependent on “traps” we see our Guy (IMDb says that’s Duhamel’s character’s name) prep and set. The few creative ones are lost in a collection of off-the-shelf remote-controlled-explosive-devices that you see in every B-movie thriller — a light on the designer bomb, flashing lights on the hand-held control that arms it and sets it off.

The script is a cut-and-paste job — lazy plotting, dull dialogue, no twists at all.

Duhamel has character traits to play — not many, though. There’s plenty of screen time for his go-to move, running his hand through his hair. A lot.

But hell, if a Jack White look-alike is playing your pursuer, what’s HE supposed to do when his dye-job gets in his eyes? A lot?

Rating: R, violence and lots of it, profanity

Cast: Josh Duhamel, Greg Kinnear, María Elisa Camargo, Ricky Russert, Michael Zapesotsky and Peter Stormare.

Credits: Directed by Johnny Martin, scripted by Jim Agnew. A Lionsgate release.

Running time: 1:46

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Movie Review: You’ll feel “Sweet Relief” when this inept indie thriller is over

It’s a little known truth of indie film sets that the “indier” the film, the less likely you’ll be able to tell the cast from the crew when visiting the shoot.

I came to this conclusion covering such low budget, tiny budget and micro-budget productions in multiple states over the years. And I was reminded of it just a few minutes into “Sweet Relief,” a stumbling, amateurish thriller filmed with Amherst, Massachusetts subbing for overgrown, backward BFE Rural America.

No, I didn’t have to read the movie’s Internet Movie Database page to realize whoever shot it (Students? Friends?) spent all of six days filming it.

The casts and crews of such films are inevitably young, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The actors wear their own clothes, own tattoos and own piercings, and so does the crew, more than a few of whom figure they’re perky and good looking enough to act in movies themselves, and are often right.

But when you see a 20something with lots of ink, a mismatched tank top and cut off jeans and a hat from the horror anthology “VHS” as a character in “Sweet Relief,” you wonder if Adam Michael Kozak was doubling as a grip, setting up lights or reflectors between takes.

There are a couple of decent moments in the third act of this horror thriller, but that’s far too late to do much more than spare it the dreaded “zero stars out of four” rating. The pacing, shot selection, dialogue and plot are clumsy, under-workshopped and nearly unfilmmable. The acting isn’t uniformly bad, but by and large it’s awful enough to wonder if the crew wasn’t shoved in front of the camera because somebody better didn’t show up over those six days.

The score is tonally inappropriate Muzak, so “off” as to make you wonder if they thought any of this was funny.

In an unnamed town where no lawn is mowed, no playground is kept up and no street has a sidewalk, but everybody has Eco Warrior rainwater capturing rain barrels made from recycled plastic (Amherst, LOL) the kids are sharing this social media murder game “Sweet Relief.”

They make a challenge to each other, pointing out someone they’d like to kill or see dead, via cell phone video. The catch is, if they don’t go through with all the promised murders, the Sweet Angel — a dude in a rat or short-eared-bunny mask — will come and do them and all their family in.

Hannah, Lily and Corey (Lucie Rosenfeld, Jocelyn Lopez and Catie Dupont) make such a pact. An “annoying” baby sitter, a boy who jilted one of them and the “c–t mother” of the other seem to be the targets of their pact.

We see that first pointless, pitiless butchery and eventually another killing. But the narrative shifts to Hannah’s frustrated brother (Kozak), his live-in nurse girlfriend (Alisa Leigh), his “crazy” conspiracy theory fan mother (Jane Karakula) and this dopey, Halloween Store-costumed “cop” (B.R. Yeager) and a teen (Gianni Passiglia) he’s trying to impress take over the middle acts.

The cop’s a slob in a corrupt police department, up to no good and always trying to impress his brother officers and Kyle the kid he’s trying to make an informant.

“You shoulda SEEN me in Florida!” should’ve been enough to keep Gerald from getting a job at any other PD in the country. But that’s where law enforcement stands these days.

Social media “murder games” are discussed, murders are carried out, bodies are disposed of, a walk in the woods is interrupted by a swim in the lake (naturally, a woman does this), a witness idiotically confronts a perp and that damned bunny mask wearer is outed. And none of it amounts to anything worth 85 minutes of your time.

With Gerald as an exemplar, it’s no wonder no cop has found a body or sounded the alarm about all this. With soulless kids like this, it’s no wonder a high school science teacher (Paul Lazar) is the biggest conspiracy nut of all. He’s got his reasons.

Writer-director Nick Verdi isn’t quite as green as his surname. Close. He got something titled “Cockazoid” in the can, if not into theaters.

But with a cast like this, who needs a crew? I’ll bet Mr. “VHS” hat has a light meter in his cut-off shorts. If not him, then surely the teen killer girl in shortalls does.

Rating: Unrated, graphic violence, profanity, alcohol abuse, drug content

Cast: Alisa Leigh, B.R. Yeager, Joceyln Lopez, Lucie Rosenfeld, Adam Michael Kozak, Catie Dupont, Gianni Passiglia, Jane Karakula and Paul Lazar.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Nick Verdi. An Art Brut release.

Running time: 1:26

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Classic Film Review: Pinter, Losey and Bogarde wind up the Clockwork Creepiness of “The Servant”(1963)

It’s been so long since I reviewed anything scripted by Nobel laureate Harold Pinter that I had to refresh my memory about the traits associated with the phrase “Pinteresque.”

Let’s see, an “atmosphere of menace,” suspense and tension heightened by the quiet of it all, underscored by pauses in the dialogue — long pauses — class conscious shifts in “control” and power and who has it.

That’s “The Servant” in a nutshell, a Pinter screen adaptation (for director Joseph Losey) of a novella written by W. Somerset Maugham’s nephew.

This 1963 black and white jewel is filled with exquisitely composed and lit images by legenadary cinematographer Douglas Slocumbe (“Hue and Cry,” “The Man in the White Suit,” “The Lavender Hill Mob,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark”). It’s beautifully acted thanks to actor’s director/Pinter-collaborator Losey (“The Go-Between”), with career-making performances by newcomers Sarah Miles and James Fox.

And it’s a movie that makes great use of the sinister side of co-star Dirk Bogarde, who truly shone in ambiguous “sketchy” roles in films like “Cast a Dark Shadow,” this film and others.

There’s something in the eyes that makes us wonder about this manservant Barrett (Bogarde) who’s shown up for a job at an empty, messy townhouse that trust fund baby Tony (Fox) has just bought. The tall, thin and privileged blond is a globe-trotting project developer, just in from Africa, experienced in India and talking big things about planned cities in Brazil.

Surely you can clean. But “can you cook?” And can you manage moving in and the “general looking after” that a gentleman requires from a “gentleman’s gentleman?”

Indeed he can. Barrett supervises the repainting and repairs and decorating as Tony moves in. But he’s barely settled before Barrett starts to rub Tony’s intended, Susan (Wendy Craig of TV’s “Butterflies”) the wrong way.

“Every time you open the door that man is there,” she gripes. She’s gotten the informal proposal and it’s just possible that she might see Barrett as an obstacle to her closing the deal. And he’s become good at anticipating the “general looking after” of his employer that she may seem supfluous.

Barrett? He keeps his cards close to his vest, but Bogarde lets us see the wheels turning behind those scheming eyes. When his suggestions that they need a housekeeper end in “my sister” coming in, the game’s afoot.

Miles plays Vera with all the naked guile she could manage at 22 — a young woman not really accustomed to “service,” but working those big, carefully made-up eyes for all that they’re worth. If Tony hasn’t noticed the length of her skirts, Barrett suggests “They worry me.”

If this is a honey trap, it’s well and surely set. But as Tony’s “Brazil” talk sounds and looks more and more like “big talk” and affairs under this stylish roof turn altogether more torrid and complicated, we’re allowed to wonder who is trapping whom?

Whatever the merits of the source material, Pinter and Losey look for ambiguities, intrigues and twists that suggest the story has reached its climax, when no, it hasn’t. Or maybe it has, and this is just one of the cinema’s great anti-climaxes following other anti-climaxes melodramas.

It’s worth recalling that Losey and Pinter pretty much invented the “flash forward” in cinema with their later collaboration, “The Go-Between.” Messing with narrative conventions was something the blacklisted stage and film director and playwright and sometime director or actor (look for Pinter as the dark-suited swell in the film’s famously brittle restaurant scene) brought out in each other.

Fox, the younger and much taller brother of accomplished character actor Edward Fox, holds his own here as an unchallenged young man completely in over his head, “besotted” with Vera but promised to the class-appropriate Susan and drinking entirely too much to keep it together.

Miles takes a giggling archetype and gives her “tart” enough edge to make us wonder just what she’s capable of beyond what we see her doing.

But Bogarde puts on his show-of-shows as Barrett, wearing the mask of crisp fealty as “The Servant,” letting that mask slip and then some in the later acts as the nature of relationships changes and the power dynamic shifts.

“The Servant” is rightly celebrated as a pungent Pinter piece and a performance showcase. But what pushes it over the top as a “classic” has to be its look. This is the dingy beginnings of “Swinging London,” jazz/dance clubs and folk/blues pubs, too much drinking and class distinctions that lingered even as they briefly stopped widening back to “Downton” era schisms. And capturing that, Slocumbe treats us to one stunningly lit and composed shot after another.

Take note of how the initial “scheme” is exposed — just Bogarde, naked in the shadows, smoking a cigarette and trying to figure out if his “gentleman” has returned and heard the romping he and Vera are carrying on upstairs, with Tony and Susan framed from downstairs, cowering in shocked silence.

It’s an image worth freeze-framing and hanging on a wall, and in this classic Pinter-adapted drama, it’s far from the only one.

Rating: unrated, implied sex. alcohol abuse, smoking

Cast: Dirk Bogarde, James Fox, Sarah Miles and Wendy Craig, with Patrick Magee and Richard Vernon.

Credits: Directed by Joseph Losey, scripted by Harold Pinter, based on a novel by Robin Maugham. A Warners/Pathe release on Tubi, other streamers

Running time: 1:56

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Movie Preview: A “Found Footage” horror comedy about faking Bigfoot

Maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t it feel as if any “found footage” spoof should have come out, oh, 12-20 years ago?

Of COURSE that title’s already been used (on a 2012 thriller, and a 2016 “3D” horror comedy).

The homages and tropes litter this dissonant trailer for “The Making of the Patterson Project” few will see.

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Movie Preview: Old friends, “Cannibus infused” cuisine, and a missile on its way to wreck the party — “Nuked”

It’s the year of apocalyptic movies, thanks to the last few years of American politics.

Lucy Punch, Justin Bartha, Anna Camp and Natasha Legerro star in Deena Kashper’s “We’re all gonna DIE!” stoned farce.

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Netflixable? A Brazilian pop-star biopic — “Latin Blood: The Ballad of Ney Matogrosso”

From the moment little Ney de Souza Pereira spied cabaret and carnival icon Elvira Pagã on the stage, the die was cast and his young life had purpose.

All those beatings he stubbornly endured from his military officer dad because “I’m not raising my son to become an ARTIST,” all that drawing he was doing even at an early age meant something. And when he was finally big enough to ward off his father’s blows and escape his threats, he knew what promise he had to make. He would never be invisible again.

“I’ll make sure Brazil knows about me!”

“Latin Blood: The Ballad of Ney Matogrosso” (titled “Homem com H” in Portuguese) is a straightforward pop star biopic, a film that covers many of the same bases as “What’s Love Got to Do With It,” “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Get On Up” as it chronicles the life and struggles of a ground-breaking, barrier-shattering Brazilian showman, singing idol and queer icon.

Writer-director Esmir Filho and star Jesuíta Barbosa (“Unremember”) take us through this life, the many baby steps — first crush in his Air Force years, dabbling in costume design and acting before his high contratenor voice got noticed — and into outrageous but balladic glam pop fame and superstardom.

All this happens under the shadow of the long, repressive, censorious military dictatorship that ruled Brazil just as Ney was coming out and seizing the spotlight. A repeated image of the film is of Ney as a boy and then a young man, wandering the rainforest, not so much lost but finding his way and taking in all the wonders around him as he does.

Born in the 1940s, finding his voice in the ’60s and becoming an androgynous glam sensation in the ’70s, non-Brazilian viewers will find a lot of analogies to other careers in this singular star’s life story.

The tropes of the genre — the voice “discovered” while singing in a choir in Brasilia, that first band, a ballad-playing acoustic pop trio that converted known poetry into songs to evade censorship, inept managers and cheating ones, “going solo” and grabbing attention with every performance thanks to his (limited) attire, over-the-top Noh Theatre-Goes Native makeup and writhing stage presence, often in contrast to the lilting tunes he was performing.

Barbosa is riveting in the title role, making our anti-hero tentative but defiant, principled but flawed, passionate and impulsive. We see promiscuity in all its many forms as Matogrosso didn’t just “experiment,” he loved and coupled and throupled according to his shifting tastes and moods.

Bela Leindecker plays a friend, sounding board and lifelong confidante and sometimes lover. Augusto Trainotti is Cato, that first same-sex love, comrade in arms and air force base bunkmate in scenes whose physical chemistry simmers through the caution that their situation demanded. We meet hook-ups, feckless rich toy boys and “the one,” who shows up the moment AIDS hits Brazil.

Through all this, the one evolving constant is Ney’s relationship with his stern, cruel but steadily-softening father (Rômulo Braga, terrific), a man who beat his little boy but who kept checking on him, begging him to “come home” and eventually showing up at Ney Matogrosso’s ever-more-transgressive performances.

The lithe and body-positive Barbosa gives off a strong Rami Malek vibe, and that plays beautifully off Liev Schreiber/Eugene Levy look-alike Braga’s stony sternness.

Matogrosso, who took his father’s middle name as his stage name, was a little bit Jim Morrison, a hint of Freddie Mercury and a lot of Iggy Pop and David Bowie, all rolled up in one performer with the vocal range of a Baroque castrato, dolled-up like the fifth member of KISS.

Yeah, it’s a lot to process and the film meanders and dawdles as it passes through its many cliches. But in any language, in any culture, it’s fun to track a performer’s career from folk through glam to disco to pop and stadium-filling rocker. Here, that performer sounds like no one you’ve ever heard.

If there’s a failing in Netflix’s presentation of the film (in Portuguese, with subtitles, or dubbed) it’s that the songs themselves are NOT translated from Portuguese. As the film is heavily reliant on performance scenes, we miss what made the tunes connect with and reflect the culture Matogrosso has performed in — tunes that could be rebellious, sexual, romantic, patriotic and counter-culture controversial.

There’s a touch of Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodovar’s story that parallels this uncommon life — a confused boy, closeted, treasured by his mother (Sabina Zúñiga Varela), bristling at the constraints of a fascist-ruled ultraconservative culture.

But unlike Almodovar, Matogrosso defiantly stood up, blew up and came out before the dictatorship ended. If he didn’t have a role in that military-rule downfall, his years of growing stardom were one long raspberry spat in the face of Brazil’s “establishment.” A triumphant “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” finale makes sure to give Ney Matogrosso the last word in that debate.

Rating: TV-MA, some violence, drug abuse, sex, nudity and profanity

Cast: Jesuíta Barbosa, Rômulo Braga, Bela Leindecker, Jeff Lryio, Mauro Soares, Augusto Trainotti and Sabina Zúñiga Varela

Credits: Scripted and directed by Esmir Filho. A Netflix release.

Running time: 2:09

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BOX OFFICE: “Dragon” slays Zombies and “Elio,” “28 Years Later” devours $30 million

There was a time when the moment a new Pixar title landed a release date, every other studio threw up its hands as a sea of suits whined, “Well, THAT weekend’s out.”

But post-COVID, factoring in inflation, “family” audiences are looking for more assurance than a simple studio brand name that the comfort food for kids they crave will deliver. Disney and now Dreamworks have pandered to that by remaking their animated hits as “live action” with CGI magic, and this summer has been owned by a “new” “Lilo & Stitch,” followed by a “new” take on “How to Train Your Dragon” from Dreamworks.

Pixar puts out an original animated adventure, and it barely moves the needle.

“Elio” opened at a near-disastrous $21 million, based on a middling preview performance and a Friday that combined ($9 million) didn’t even do as well as their similarly original “hard sell” “Elemental” of a couple of years back. Saturdays were the big tell for animated family movies, and it didn’t help.

The Dreamworks live-action “How to Train Your Dragon” will own that audience and this weekend, with a second week take in the $37 million.

Reviews aren’t exactly over-the-moon for “Elio,” as Pixar seems to have aged out of its way with engaging characters and winning stories. International box office may allow this one to earn back its $150 million budget, but the day may be coming when there’s a shakeup at Pixar, as their
“original” misses are starting to pile up.

Thats the worst opening weekend ever for a Pixar title.

Danny Boyle’s third film in his “rage virus” zombie allegory has brand recognition, Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Ralph Fiennes, and that adds up to “28 Years Later” rolling up $30 million on its opening weekend.

You’d think people would be sick of zombies.

The script reaches for allegory and grace notes, lamenting the state of humanity and messaging compassion in between the over-the-top, “House of a Thousand Corpses” violence. Reviews overall have been decent to near-enthusiastic.

“Lilo & Stitch” adds another $9.7 million or so to slide to fourth place, and should clear the $400 million mark by next weekend, Saturday at the latest.

“Mission: Impossible — The Final Reckoning” may have vanished from the national conversation and from box office bragging, but it’s in the top five for one last weekend, earning another $6.5 million, although being just short of $180 million means it won’t clear the $200 million mark before it loses its screens and goes streaming. It’s already bested the “Dead Reckoning” that preceded it at the US/Canadian box office.

The cynical and unromantic all-star “Materialists” lost half its opening weekend mojo and cleared $5 million on its second weekend, pointing to a $30-35 million take by the time it loses all its screens and finishes its run. It’ll have cleared $23 million by midnight Sunday.

John Wick World “Ballerina” is out of the top five and fading fast, “The Life of Chuck,” and the spring box office smash “Sinners” drop out of the top ten,.

“Kuberra,” and Indian release in a lot of theaters, managed to crack the top ten at over $1.7 million.

A second Rebel Wilson small-distributor comedy of the year, “Bride Hard,” is proving as hard a sell as her “Juliet & Romeo” — terrible reviews, limited box office appeal.

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Movie Preview: Michelle Dockery’s not good with kids? “Please Don’t Feed the Children”

Giancarlo Esposito also stars in this limited release (June 27).

Gotta wonder if the title’s a “Twilight Zone” tease, with “Downton” Dockery involved. She’d have no trouble giving off that vibe or pulling that off. Just saying.

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Movie Preview: An amnesiac pregnant woman, a remote British Isle and Maxine Peake telling Erin Kellyman she’s not “Woken” enough to leave

Yeah, the headline says it all.

Looks tight though. Paranoid, the works.

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Movie Review: “The Life of Chuck” Dances for the Reason to Live at the End of the World

Speaking as a critic who’s been “blurbed” a few times over the decades, you’ve got to recognize the double-edged sword such “recognition” in the advertising on a poster for a movie is. That’s you, out there, effusive in your praise, struggling to come up with a coherent, grammatical endorsement of a movie you loved.

And if, as some of the breathless shills for “The Life of Chuck” are insisting, it’s a “life altering experience,” “profoundly magical” and an “It’s a Wonderful Life’ for today,” they’re on safe ground.

But if it isn’t — and it most decidedly is not — at least they have the comfort of knowing that nobody will fling their words back at them from a DVD box or a collectible poster, as in days of yore. Because nobody’s collecting the poster for this, and I dare say few will be buying it on Bluray for their collection.

It’s a cloying, feel-good end-of-the-world story that reaches for emotions in a few stand-out moments, and grasps for many others that just aren’t there. Based on a late-life Stephen King novella, it leans on dance scenes, the words of Walt Whitman and Carl Sagan and Gimme Some Lovin'” by the Spencer Davis Group (“Little” Stevie Winwood on vocals and organ) to give you the “feels.”

Sometimes that works, and often it annoys, a 101 minute annoyance about facing death and the end of times dryly narrated to DEATH by Nick Offerman.

But if Stephen King was feeling nostalgic, wistful and philosphical about “the end,” having survived into old age, a near fatal running-over by a van, decades of coming in and out of favor and the task of passing his horror baton to his son Joe Hill, we owe him this indulgence. Director and screenwriter Mike Flanagan (“Doctor Sleep,” the recent “House of Usher,” “Hill House” and “Bly House” horror series) we owe a lot less.

A cascading torrent of calamities have befallen the Earth — sinkholes and tsunamis, California is sliding off into the sea, vast chunks of it at a time and it’s the End of the Internet as We Know It. There’s nothing for it but to stare into the night sky and watch planets and stars wink-out of existence and resign ourselves to a favorite Carl Sagan quote about the fleeting nature of time, “the great clock of the universe,” and our tiny lives within it.

Sagan’s “We are like mayflies, fleeting ephemeral creatures who live out their lives in the course of a single day,” isn’t quoted in the movie. But it informs every downbeat moment of it.

Chiwetel Ejiofor plays a midwestern teacher trying to keeps his students — and their parents at parent-teacher conferences — focused on their studies with the world ending around them and life serving up day after day of bad news, work-arounds and drive-arounds as society, civilization and life breaks down. Suicides are rampant, something the teacher’s ex-wife/nurse (Karen Gillan) is struggling with.

But this former couple has a bigger concern. “The end…Who do you want to be with for it?”

All around them, on billboards, on radio, the Internet and TV before all that vanishes, are ads congratulating “Chuck Krantz” for “39 Great Years.” It’s become a joke, and in this movie, that joke is a “cosmic” one.

Chuck (Tom Hiddleston) lived his life of comfy “quiet desperation” as an accountant. But in the movie’s signature knock-out moment, this accountant at a conference stops on hearing the busking of street drummer Taylor Gordon, and breaks into dance. As a crowd gathers, a just-jilted-bookstore clerk (Annalise Basso) is coaxed into the city square to dance with him.

“The Life of Chuck” will tell Chuck’s story in reverse order from that moment, how he (Benjamin Pajak, Cody Flanagan and Jacob Tremblay play younger Chucks) lost his parents as a child, was raised by his grandparents (Mark Hamill and “Ferris Bueller” alumna Mia Sara), how he discovered the childhood joy of dancing with his granny, rediscovering that in school and then casting aside that love to be practical and take up accounting like his grandfather.

Chuck’s “congratulations” messaging takes a supernatural turn as the movie progresses and we see him on his deathbed, presumably before The World Ends, comforted by his wife (“New World” Pocahontas Q’orianka Kilcher), perhaps reconciled to the Big Message of this over-narrated wade into what “28 Years Later” reminded us about life and why we should live it while we have the chance — “Memento mori.”

Through it all, a story told in reverse order (more or less), our endlessly opining voice-over narrator redundantly reminds us of the Great Imponderables of The End, as many a character must “wonder why God made the world.”

This feel good “worlds’ end” dramedy isn’t as uplifting as “Seeking a Friend for the End of the World,” isn’t as sad and fatalistic as “On the Beach.” King and Flanagan lack the writerly/cinematic existential heft to truly ponder “the end” from an old man’s perspective the way Orson Welles did throughout his career, from “Citizen Kane” and “Magnificent Ambersons” to “Chimes at Midnight” and “The Other Side of the Wind.”

So their point, such as it is, amounts to little or nothing.

Offerman’s reading of Flanagan and King’s narration never goes deeper than glum and never rises above glib. The performances are competent and some players have “moments,” but by and large they don’t register in much more than an archetypal sense.

“The Life of Chuck” has a resignation and a timeliness to it that render any “escape” it might offer moot. Every viewer brings his or her own baggage into the cinema, but whatever might have touched many seems buried under disorganized treacle.

It’s no wonder that apocalypse movies are all the rage this year. Missiles flying in the Middle East, distracting from an ongoing genocide, a snake oil salesman in charge of American health care and a soulless con man with his finger on the button that could generate End Times, forever boasting of his cunning plan to end Federal disaster relief, it’s all a little too grim to get away from by slipping into a cinema for a generally dull downer of a movie.

“Profoundly magical?” All this facile, faux fatalistic film lacks is a Bobby McFerrin sing-along over the closing credits. Then again, they’d probably have Offerman narrate that, too.

Rating: R, profanity

Cast: Tom Hiddleston, Jacob Tremblay, Annalise Basso, Q’orianka Kilcher, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan, Carl Lumbly, Mia Sara and Mark Hamill, narrated by Nick Offerman.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Mike Flanagan, based on the novella by Stephen King. A Neon release.

Running time: 1:51

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