Aurelia Butler

The writer-director Theda Hammel’s biting, delirious quarantine comedy skewers white gay men in a world where fact, fiction and authentic experiences collide.For “Stress Positions,” the writer-director Theda Hammel shows her hand when a character says, in a world-weary voice-over, that the madness we’re about to witness “happened so long ago.”The movie is set in summer 2020.Karla (portrayed by Hammel) is a sardonic transgender massage therapist in New York, and the first of the film’s two narrators. Her opinion of white gay male privilege, especially that of her best friend Terry, who went from intern to husband of his boss, can be stinging.“Stress Positions” finds Terry (John Early) in lockdown in the brownstone of his soon-to-be ex-husband, Leo (John Roberts). Upstairs, Coco (Rebecca F. Wright), a tenant, puffs cigarettes and vaguely hews to Terry’s Covid safety protocols. Terry’s nephew Bahlul (Qaher Harhash), a Moroccan fashion model, is ensconced at the garden level. The 19-year-old Bahlul is the son of Terry’s estranged sister who converted to Islam. He has a broken leg, soft brown eyes and a small notebook. Is it a memoir? A novel? As he writes, he ruminates on his mother in a voice-over. We find out that Karla’s girlfriend, Vanessa (Amy Zimmer), wrote a minor-hit novel with material filched from Karla’s life. Here, fact, fiction and authentic experience are all themes to be mined.Beyond skewering white gay male culture, the movie is also a dig at the pieties of the recently politicized. Terry, Karla and Vanessa don’t know where Morocco is, or Yemen or Kabul, for that matter. And Ronald, a food delivery guy (Faheem Ali), plays a telling role in exposing the hierarchy of lives that matter.If some of the points seem muddy, the filmmaking is expressive and deliberate. With shimmer, shadow and verve, “Stress Positions” — which recently closed the New Directors/New Films festival — captures the often hallucinatory pandemonium wrought by that “long-ago” moment.Stress PositionsNot Rated. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes. In theaters. More

This drug-run thriller, starring Scoot McNairy, traffics in grim ponderousness.In “Blood for Dust,” Cliff (Scoot McNairy), a salesman, hawks defibrillators across the upper western states. The devices are a tough sell, he admits. Yet this sluggish, self-serious job-gone-wrong movie could itself stand to be jolted to life.It emerges that, while working for a previous employer, Cliff participated in an elaborate theft scheme that ended with the accounting man’s suicide. That gory mess, seen in a prologue set in 1992, provides the first image, in the sort of sudden brutality that is meant to shock but instead comes across as posturing.Flash forward 17 months, to when the bulk of the action takes place. Cliff has debts, a tarnished reputation and a wife (Nora Zehetner) with whom he has had the experience of caring for a cancer-stricken child. (Evidently opening with a suicide wasn’t grim enough.) Ricky (Kit Harington), a former colleague in the scandal, approaches Cliff with an offer. “I could use a man don’t mind breaking the rules,” he drawls in an accent far removed from the Montana setting.Cliff doesn’t trust that pitch — and the barely recognizable Harington shouldn’t have trusted in that horseshoe mustache — but desperation is desperation. So Cliff joins a drug-running operation, with predictably violent consequences.Directed by Rod Blackhurst, “Blood for Dust” is a throwback, in the sense of being exceedingly familiar. An early shot of a snow-covered parking lot inevitably evokes “Fargo,” but “Blood for Dust” doesn’t have a witty line or a glimmer of humor. The climactic shootout is so dimly lit that it’s difficult to discern who is firing at whom. It’s easy enough to guess.Blood for DustRated R. Gun violence and a topless bar. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

In this cheerfully unambitious vampire movie, a bloodsucker is shut up in an old mansion with some nitwit criminals. Will there will be gore? You bet.A cheerfully obvious splatterthon, the new horror movie “Abigail” follows a simple, time-tested recipe that calls for a minimal amount of ingredients. Total time: 109 minutes. Take a mysterious child, one suave fixer and six logic-challenged criminals. Place them in an extra-large pot with a few rats, creaking floorboards and ominous shadows. Stir. Simmer and continue stirring, letting the stew come to a near-boil. After an hour, crank the heat until some of the meat falls off the bone and the whole mix turns deep red. Enjoy!That more or less sums up this movie, a horror flick that’s serviceable enough to make you occasionally giggle or flinch, yet is also so aggressively unambitious that it scarcely seems worth griping about. It centers on the kidnapping of the title character (a fine Alisha Weir), an outwardly self-possessed 12-year ballerina who’s snatched one night by a half-dozen genre types. A formulaically diverse cohort of underworld bottom feeders (played by Dan Stevens, among others), these Scooby-Doo-ish chuckleheads come with divergent skills, histories and expiration dates, and are largely tasked with padding the reed-thin story and dying horribly.The filmmakers — it was written by Stephen Shields and Guy Busick, and directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett — have outfitted the story with the usual particulars. Much of the movie unfolds inside a sprawling labyrinthine mansion that looks like it was imagineered by an amusement park designer who scanned some old horror movies while thumbing through picture books on the history of the European aristocracy. There are suits of armor flanking the front door, a bearskin rug on the floor, an empty coffin tucked in a corner and oddly, given the genre circumstances, some fresh garlic in an otherwise derelict kitchen.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More