Another week, another streaming service getting into the theatrical release business. This time it is “Now Streaming” mainstay MUBI, as announced on Variety, as they have secured the UK and Ireland rights to distribute festival darling Arabian Nights. As part of the deal, shortly after the theatrical release, MUBI will do what they do best and make the film available on their streaming service. With Netflix, Amazon and now MUBI in on the theatrical game, the writing on the wall has been outlined in permanent marker—the way we consume movies will continue to change in the coming years. And now check out the titles new to the various streaming sites below.

Netflix

Zero Motivation (Talya Lavie, 2014)

One of the best films in the recent run out of Israel, Zero Motivation is a darkly comedic take on the intense situation in the Middle East. In the vein of MASH, this is a wartime film without any war, replacing bullets and bombs with a group of young women bored to death by the menial office work they are charged with as part of their required military service. Perhaps the film’s strongest attribute is its balance between sometimes silly, sometimes droll situational humor with the very serious backdrop—it always understands that there are real stakes at play here, even with a group of characters plucked from the Israeli cast of Girls. When we picked it as one the best films from 2014 that you may have missed, we called the film a “confidently pleasant experience, one that’s surprisingly funny and likable.”

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
The Guest (Adam Wingard, 2014)
Set Fire to the Stars (Andy Goddard, 2014)
Teacher of the Year (Jason Strouse, 2014)

Fandor

Taste of Cherry (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997)

A much different type of film from the Middle East is Abbas Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry. The film involves a middle-aged Iranian man seeking to find someone who will help in burying him after he commits suicide. Much of the film takes place inside of Mr. Badii’s truck as he talks with them about the unique job he is hiring. This structure gives the film a slow, meandering pace, but much rewarding philosophical thought. Today, the film might be most famous for its 1-star review from Roger Ebert (who, interestingly, loved the similarly themed Goodbye Solo). Taste of Cherry is presented by Fandor as part of its Criterion Picks exploring some of the best independent films of the 1990s—a few of which are highlighted below. As with many Fandor streaming selections, it is available for a limited time. If you want to catch up with Taste of Cherry, or any of the 1990s picks, you will have to do so by August 2.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
An Angel at My Table (Jane Campion, 1990)
Emporte-moi (Léa Pool, 1999)
Ratcatcher (Lynne Ramsay, 1999)
Rhymes for Young Ghouls (Jeff Barnaby, 2013)
Schizopolis (Steven Soderbergh, 1996)

MUBI

Poetry (Lee Chang-dong, 2010)

Poetry is a beautiful and poignant film from one of most emotionally resonant storytellers working in today’s world cinema. The film is a character profile of an elderly woman who begins showing the early signs of Alzheimer’s—the title coming from a poetry class the woman begins taking in order to maintain her mental strength. Of the filmmakers coming from the South Korean New Wave, Lee works less within the extreme genres and more from the country’s melodramatic traditions. Poetry does blend in some elements of crime and violence, but is much more a simple character study.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
Barking Dogs Never Bite (Bong Joon-ho, 2000)
Casanova ’70 (Mario Monicelli, 1965)
The Ruling Class (Peter Medak, 1972)
The Stunt Man (Richard Rush, 1980)
Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2010)

iTunes and VOD

Veep (Season 4)

Hitting iTunes for rental or purchase this week is the wonderful fourth season of the HBO comedy series Veep. This season saw Selena Meyer and her ragtag team (including new cast member Hugh Laurie as her perhaps too popular running mate) hitting the campaign trail, ending in a shocking election night. Episode #9 “Testimony” is a particular highlight—the episode is completely made from the “found footage” taken from a congressional committee hearing. An homage to the landmark McCarthy hearings documentary Point of Order, “Testimony” gives a new for to Veep‘s biting satire. With the fate of Selena Meyer up in the air, the show’s brilliant creator, Armando Iannucci, is stepping away as executive producer, writer, and director.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
Before We Go (Chris Evans, 2014)
Child 44 (Daniel Espinosa, 2015)
Felix and Meira (Maxime Giroux, 2014)
House of Lies (Season 4)
Lucky Stiff (Christopher Ashley, 2014)

There’s plenty of intrigue to be gleaned from the story of a poet. The romantic notion of a wandering wordsmith of keen mind and melancholic disposition; quick to find a phrase where others can’t, and the first to offer a cheery limerick or profound recitation to the battered soul that bothers to listen. But the mystery of this figure is in their removed quality, emotionally isolated by his or her own will. Tormented inside and perhaps contradictory in the action they take, the celluloid poet is usually found inspiring others as they slowly destroy themselves.

In the case of Set Fire to the Stars, the troubled artist in question is Dylan Thomas (most popularly known for the poem, Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night). The year is 1950, and the Welshman’s been scheduled for a number of poetry readings across the U.S. His first stop is New York City, where he is received by a creative writing professor named John Brinnin (Elijah Wood). A great admirer of Thomas’s prose and an aspiring poet himself, Brinnin flippantly disregards the man’s incorrigible reputation and agrees to be his guide on the tour. Unfortunately, Thomas lives up to the unsavory stories and what was meant to be a professional companionship between a literary celebrity and his liaison soon becomes something closer to that of a man-child and his reluctant babysitter. After a rowdy night on the town and an ugly bottoming out at the hotel, Brinnin decides to take the drunken poet out of the city, to a family owned cabin in the woods of Connecticut. There, the two men alternate between bonding and butting heads as Thomas prepares for an upcoming engagement at Yale University.

While the events are from the perspective of Elijah Wood’s character, it is ultimately Celyn Jones that commands the spotlight as Dylan Thomas. The poet is a hurricane of a man, strong and aggressive, always looking for either a drink or a hefty meal. He’s introduced to us at a party, playing the part of a wild gorilla, swilling alcohol and drunkenly crashing through another man’s apartment as he carries a shrieking woman over his shoulder. The boorish behavior extends to all settings and no matter who the audience is, Thomas seems unable to stop himself from indulging his impulsive spirit. He cares not what others think of him and frequently frustrates his comrade, but through it all, he retains a certain eloquence, his brilliant mind making itself known at the most unlikely times. Jones’s performance is magnetic and aside from the occasional overly-sentimental moment, his portrayal of the larger than life poet is well-balanced and often nuanced.

As Thomas’s cautious caretaker, Elijah Wood is not nearly as compelling. Wide-eyed and slightly awkward, Wood fits the role, but his affectation is flat in almost every scene. He doesn’t quite sell his embodiment of John Brinnin, and with a character that is so thinly written in the first place, it’s hard to get a real sense of him beyond his politely hesitant tendencies. The film hints at something more interesting in a scene in which Brinnin tells a heartbreaking impromptu story at a dinner party, but outside of this anomaly, the character remains underwhelming—little more than a window for the audience to view Thomas through.

The brief emotional odyssey these two characters traverse is unconventional, but not always engagingly so. Plainly stated, the structure and pacing of their story is off-putting at first. The film starts quickly, leaping right into Thomas’s arrival and presenting the men as being more familiar with each other than would be expected of two people who’ve just met. There’s very little time devoted to the relationship being built up, and twenty minutes in the film and its characters feel well into their falling action. It’s a strange way to open a film—saved only by the natural story progression—and the remainder of the movie plays like an extended third act. The eventual slow down in pace is appreciated, as a series of introspective conversations and encounters with off-kilter personalities are allowed to take place and give the film some thematic focus. Though, this lengthened ending weighs the film down and makes it difficult for these series of moments to add up to anything truly memorable. Set Fire to the Stars goes out on a relatively high note, but the false climax at Yale and a couple of non-endings hamper it.

Beyond the confusion of the story structure lies a greater problem in the film’s dialogue. For a semi-biographical film dealing with a poet, one would expect there to be some analysis of the writer’s work in relation to his or her life. A study of the poet’s negotiation of real life issues through language. But, this is not exactly what Set Fire to the Stars does. The dialogue is unnaturally dense in an attempt to imitate poetic written prose, but only succeeds in undercutting emotional tone. Thomas’s own poetry is employed from time to time and its use resembles a dazzling crutch more than an enlightening tool. Pretty, but slight when it comes to informing the story.

Along with its flawed flow and stunted dialogue, the film teases with false emotional plot devices as well. Distractions that do the characters and story no real service and serve up more disappointment upon their eventual reveals.

Writer-Director Andy Goddard (best known for his work in TV shows like Downton Abbey and Torchwood) doesn’t lack in visual ability. The black and white cinematography is good-looking and a quietly somber mood is nicely evoked in a number of expressive visual flourishes. The only crime Set Fire to the Stars commits is the quaint crime of being unremarkable. Priding itself on lofty quotes, the film struggles to fully involve the audience on an emotional level begging the question, who is the film for? Lovers of jazz-inflected narratives set in early ’50s America may enjoy it and fans of Dylan Thomas will surely get more out of it than those unfamiliar with the man, but for everyone else, there’s not much to write home about.