Whether or not you will enjoy Eden is contingent on whether you care to see an almost beat-by-beat retelling of Lord of the Flies. The only notable difference between the two stories is that the refugees in Eden are frightened adults instead of frightened children; and the cast isn’t entirely male. Now, while the film doesn’t bring anything particularly new or groundbreaking to the table, director Shyam Madiraju manages to keep high entertainment value with some truly surprising moments.

After competing in an international competition, a professional soccer team ventures back to the United States on the company plane. However, on the way home the plane crashes into the ocean, killing many of the passengers. Those who survive the initial contact find refuge on a nearby island, but with limited resources, they begin to worry that they won’t be able to escape the island before their inevitable deaths. Slim (Nate Parker), the good-hearted team captain, urges everyone to stay calm and work collectively. But Andreas (Ethan Peck) makes his intentions known that he plans on surviving at all costs. Before long, the survivors split into two groups, and tensions quickly rise to violent levels as the opposing sides struggle to coexist.

While many of the characters may as well be unnamed goons—one-note and completely interchangeable with one another—there are a few unexpected moments of gut-punching drama among the opposing leaders. Thanks to a pair of solid performances from Parker and Peck, becoming emotionally invested is easy. When rescue becomes less and less likely, the stakes are raised, and it becomes immediately clear that nobody is safe in this harsh environment. Genre clichés aren’t avoided here, but there’s just enough subversion to keep viewers on their toes. Early on, it seems pretty obvious which characters are going to make it out alive and which ones are going to suffer horrible deaths. But after the formation of some unforeseen alliances, death begins to strike from all angles, and the body count rises in surprising fashion.

An unexpected love triangle between Slim, Andreas, and Elena (Jessica Lowndes)—one of their coach’s daughters—is anything but romantic, and ventures into risky territory later in the film. Eden is truly at its best when it’s subverting expectations. The discovery of a former military occupation on the island provides some mystery to the film’s setting, but nothing of note ever really comes of it. There are no monsters or cannibal tribes occupying the seemingly deserted island. The only evil to be found is humanity at its absolute worst.

Eden is a straightforward, by-the-numbers survival tale, but it is never boring and consistently engaging. There’s some pretty questionable CGI throughout—with the airplane crash sequence looking far too cartoonish and glossy—but the practical and makeup effects are morbidly realistic. From severed limbs to sliced-up flesh, the film features plenty of brutality, and is quite grim and unforgiving.

As with most tales of human survival, Eden does attempt to comment on the barbaric nature of humankind’s vicious desire to outlive one another. In typical fashion, those who keep their humanity are rewarded, while those who lose it are punished. You’ve probably seen a dozen films with a similar message, because there are seemingly hundreds of them out there. Eden’s stance on the issue isn’t particularly profound or thought-provoking, but Madiraju and screenwriter Mark Mavrothalasitis are anything but pretentious with their approach. Refusing to insult the audience’s intelligence, the filmmakers avoid a preachy tone, which is heavily beneficial given the nature of the film. Eden rarely attempts to be anything other than a suspenseful popcorn flick, and on that level, it succeeds.

About Alex is very much a film of its time. For starters, the film is occasionally hyper-aware, in the Chris Miller-Phil Lord vein, of its architecture as a film imbued with tropes. The film also feels like a clichéd indie where characters gather together and reveal secrets and grievances. But what truly makes About Alex a film of its moment is its intense but clumsy interest in the way recent cultural changes such as the Internet and social media have altered relationships of Millennials.

As noted through casual meta-jokes, About Alex is essentially The Big Chill for a new era: a group of college friends spend a weekend together rehashing the past after one of their own attempts suicide. The meta-ness ends at the passing references to the film’s familiarity though (“This is like one of those ’80s movies,” one person says at one point). From there on out, About Alex falls into the traps associated with its subgenre. Jesse Zwick’s script (Zwick also directed) is laboriously constructed to the point where the summer home the gang goes to feels like it has more personality and well-worn history.

Alex (Jason Ritter) has fallen out of touch with his friends, and it has heightened his depression, causing him to attempt suicide. In a lifeless montage, his old friends receive the news. Journalist Ben has failed to write a book and dodging Alex’s calls. Ben is dating Siri (Maggie Grace; yes, there are, indeed, iPhone jokes made), who fears she might be late. Overworked lawyer Sarah (Aubrey Plaza) still can’t resist the douchey charms of brash PhD candidate and resident truth teller Josh (Max Greenfield, in the meatiest and funniest role). However, Sarah secretly still pines for straight shooting financier Isaac, who brings along a much younger plus one (Jane Levy) to the event.

This is a lot of information to set up but as overwrought as it is, Zwick does a good job of managing it fleetly and quickly. After its belabored introduction, the film settles into a more comfortable, but still far too affected, rhythm. About Alex feels worked over, and this strains its ability to feel natural and lived in. The conflicts are seen from a mile off, and they tend to resolve themselves exactly as one might expect them to – writer’s block ends, quarreling couples make up, etc. At a certain point, the revelations stop feeling like revelations and begin to feel like carefully doled out dramatic beats. As if what the film was trying to say were not spelled out clearly enough, Ben provides a voice-over in two separate instances to lay out the film’s themes and messages. The blandness and familiarity of the story is matched with a drab cinematographic scheme, shot by Andre Lascaris. Lascaris emphasizes muted, autumnal colors, which only adds to the film’s sense of lifelessness.

And yet, when the action lacks a feeling for spontaneity or the dialogue begins to sound too much like dialogue (as it all too often does), the film is saved by its likable, strong cast. The film gives the faintest impressions of why these individuals would have become friends and why they would enjoy one another’s company. In its best moments, the film nicely provides us with the desire to hang out with these people, to get drunk and stoned, and swap jokes and stories. A number of these actors have done some fine work in television (Plaza on Parks and Recreation, Greenfield on New Girl, Levy on Suburgatory) a medium far better suited to low-key hang outs where we learn to like and understand a large group of people. The performer’s easygoing chemistry and the general likability of all involved only gives a glimmer of why we should care. But the characterization and plotting is so thin and dull that it’s still hard to get invested.

There is promise and occasional kernels of wisdom buried in About Alex. But it’s lost in execution. As a Millennial, I have a larger stake in the cultural dialogue of my generation. The claims of solipsism lobbed at us will not be alleviated by a film like About Alex. These are narcissistic, selfish people who turn the well-being of one friend into an excuse to make everything all about themselves. Unlike The Big Chill’s characters, who had been out of college for many years, these characters are just a brief five years removed. Their nostalgia, crises, and bitterness feel a little too unearned. Unlike another Millennial-marked work, television series Girls — which is about the self-entitlement and delusion of people in their twenties — About Alex has no real interest in showing its characters’ actions and behaviors as wrong-footed or dissecting its characters to better understand their psychology.

At one point, in a terribly written scene, Josh tells everyone that his dissertation is on the way texts, emails, etc. are shaping our lives and will become biographical information for history. It’s the film’s clumsiest scene, revealing the gap between the film’s ambitions and what it actually accomplishing. At a number of points, About Alex notes the way we’re more connected and in touch due to social media but how that’s a poor substitute for actual social interaction and connection. It’s not a bad observation, it’s even one that would be interesting to explore further. But the film has such a poor handle on the inherent realities of this new media age that it feels glib and shallow.

However, the film is’t entirely shallow. For instance, when Zwick forces characters to confront Alex’s suicide, the film finds some emotionally authentic moments. When About Alex’s characters remember to not be characters in an indie dramedy, the slow dissolution of their friendships are relatable, if no less contrived.

Nicholas Jarecki’s Arbitrage is a riveting thriller that works without being wholly original, instead it relies on a solid script backed by a fantastic lead performance by Richard Gere. Similar to what Margin Call was last year, the film is economically relevant, featuring a corrupt business leader, a ‘1%er’, who does whatever it takes to prevent his company from tanking. From the very beginning to the end, Arbitrage is gripping film that uses its runtime effectively, making the runtime fly-by.

Robert Miller (Richard Gere) is a high profile CEO of Miller Capital. The opening sequence has him landing from his corporate jet and entering his luxury penthouse. A bellhop greets him with presents for the children that accompany his birthday party, which he pretends to be surprised about. Even though Robert is a CEO, he is a very likeable guy, one that you proudly stand behind when working underneath him. We find out that his daughter, Brooke Miller (Brit Marling), works as the Chief Financial Officer for the company and that her father had just decided to sell the company earlier that day. She playfully, but with a serious tone, asks him why he would want to sell a company that is doing so well. He brushes it off as just being at a point in his life where he is ready to let go of the company, but there is a strong sense of an ulterior motive.

Robert leaves his birthday party telling his wife, Ellen Miller (Susan Sarandon) that he needs to go to his office to finish up some of the paper work. He enters his limo but his destination is not his office. Instead he visits the residence of a woman who he clearly has an attachment with. The two exchange a few words then passionately begin to make love. He is a charmer who hides behind his friendly smile to live a double life.

Things take a drastic turn when Robert and his mistress (Laetitia Casta) are on their way out of the city one night. Robert falls asleep behind the wheel and crashes into the median causing the vehicle to flip. He walks away with just a few scratches, but unfortunately his mistress is dead in the passenger seat. Naturally, his first instinct is to call 911, but he refrains from doing so after thinking about what the implications would be for both his career and personal life.

The script in Arbitrage is sharp and concise, nearly to a fault. Most of the supporting characters were not developed because of the film’s concentration of the main plot. Supporting characters have heavily implied backstories, but the film never went beyond the surface on any of them. So I appreciated the script for the most part but having such a tight focus does have its trade-offs.

Having said that about the supporting characters, Marling was alright but did not have a particularly memorable role. Susan Sarandon laid low for most of the film, until the very end where she made a grand finale performance. But the true star of the film is of course Richard Gere (the role felt written for him though apparently it was originally for Al Pacino). Gere delivers a performance that may be his best to date, or at the very least, the best in a long while. He is a flawed character but one you find yourself rooting for even though you probably should not be.

Arbitrage is not a terribly original story, a prolific man gets into trouble and attempts to sweep it all under the rug while seeking pity from both his family and the audience, but it is one that is well crafted. It is an effective thriller with some minor faults that act more like speed bumps than showstoppers. Arbitrage is a pleasure to watch and keeps you entertained the whole way through.