When I was a kid, movies like Beauty and the Beast, The Sandlot, Toy Story, and Star Wars opened the floodgates of my imagination, inspiring me to dream up some big adventure stories of my own. These films have only grown more precious to me as I get older and, looking back, the common denominator seems to be that they didn’t talk down to me or insult my intelligence. These movies had real danger, intense emotion, and high stakes, unlike a lot of squeaky-clean, pandering, cookie-cutter kid’s movies that made me feel dumber after watching them.

Vincent Bal‘s The Zigzag Kid is a fantastic film that I’d be more than happy to share with my (future) kids. Its wondrous, whimsical imagery, playfully elusive mystery plot, and sprawling sense of adventure make me jealous of any kid who’s lucky enough to add it to their budding movie memory bank (much like Scorsese’s Hugo, which is cut from the same cloth.) The ending has a touch of morbidity that may be a bit too complex and distressing for the youngest of crowds, but it goes to show the respect Bal has for the intellect of his audience. This is a smart film, meant for smart kids—one character in the film sums it up nicely, “Maybe I gave you a hint now and then, but it’s better than being spoon-fed like a baby.”

Nono (Thomas Simon) is a wide-eyed, unusually perceptive kid who wants to be just like his dad, Jacob (Fedja van Huet), the world’s best and most amazing detective. Nono’s been trained since birth to be a formidable super-sleuth by his old man, but he’s more mischievous than his straight-laced dad would like. When at an outdoor Bar Mitzvah, Nono tries to spice up the party by jumping off of the roof of a building with an umbrella. He imagines the feat will be a party-starting spectacle (which we see realized cinematically, a frequent occurrence), but he instead ends up landing butt-first onto the other kid’s cake.

Nono’s mom has never been around (the only evidence he has of her is a photo of her back), but he isn’t lacking female influence—his dad’s “secretary”, Gaby (Jessica Zeylmaker), is a loving, nurturing mother-figure who encourages Nono to be himself and have a blast.

Upset by the Bar Mitzvah fiasco, Jacob sends Nono off on a train to see his uncle to tame his transgressive behavior, two days before his own Bar Mitzvah. On the train, Nono discovers that his father has pulled a fast one on him, and has instead given him the gift of an adventure. He meets a mysterious old man named Felix (Burghart Klaußner, a skilled burglar) who takes him on a wild ride full of cat-and-mouse foot chases, disguises, a giant chocolate factory (so fun), clever deception, and some life-changing revelations. They meet an old chanteuse named Lola (Isabella Rossellini), who Nono heard about through Gaby. As Nono begins to piece together clues that point to the true identity of Felix and Lola, a larger truth—about the true whereabouts of his mother—comes to light.

The Zigzag Kid whizzes by in a flash (the 90 minutes feel like 45), but when you slow down and take a step back, what you’ll find is a story of age-old themes—trust, family, the hero’s journey, self-discovery. Bal frames these classic themes in a world that’s hugely imaginative, stylized, and super cool. The performances by the cast are all fantastic, particularly Simon, a gifted, endearing young actor who hangs beat for beat with the veterans.

Bal and DP Walter Vanden Ende fill the screen with delightfully inventive, wildly varied images that’ll keep your eyes glued. The world displayed is undoubtedly our own, but the colors, compositions, and exhilarating editing up the fantasy factor. In my favorite sequence, we go from a thief tip-toeing across a crane, silhouetted by the pale moon, to the same thief being handcuffed by a policeman while neck-deep in a vat of chocolate. The film’s endlessly amusing, unpredictable moments had me grinning from ear to ear from start to finish.

The film’s final reveal is surprisingly bitter and sobering for such a high-speed joyride, but it doesn’t derail a thing. Actually, it’s nice to see a challenging topic being tackled in a family-friendly film like this. The Zigzag Kid‘s irresistible charm leaps off the screen thanks to Bal’s flourishing imagery and gifted cast. I see it gracing my TV screen for many a family movie night in the future.

The Zigzag Kid trailer

Set in a sun-toasted Israel, first-timer Idan Hubel’s The Cutoff Man is a patiently reflective tale of an old man named Gabi (veteran Israeli actor Moshe Ivgy) whose dignity is slowly stripped away by a thankless (putting it mildly) job as a “cutoff man”, disabling people’s water supply when they don’t pay their bills. Hubel explores how a broken economy can drain the humanity and empathy out of a community.

The The Cutoff Man begins with an unemployed Gabi being offered a job as a “cutoff man” at the employment office. He accepts without hesitation, as he’s barely scraping by. We watch as he starts bouncing around town, hunching over in front of pipes and cutting off his fellow townsfolk’s precious water supplies. Hubel’s camera is patient and still, highlighting the elbow grease it takes for Gabi to twist and turn the pipes with his tools. The meditative pace and aura of the film recalls Abbas Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry.

Gabi’s first “victim”, an elderly woman, hobbles after him when she discovers he’s just cut off her water. She pleads with him to stop, but he just keeps walking, too guilt-ridden to look her in the eye. His subsequent “visits” don’t get any easier. He gets yelled at, called names, physically threatened, and morally battered. People look at him with utter disdain, like he’s death himself, rendering Gabi’s pride demolished. Still, Gabi trudges on, as not providing for his family isn’t an option. Still, he’s only scraping by, barely able to pay for his son’s goalie gloves. Hubel and co-writer Nimrod Eldar aren’t quite as cruel to their protagonist as, say, the Coen Brothers, but he’s certainly got enough sad-sack in him to fit right in with Jerry Lundegaard and Larry Gopnik.

As Gabi’s list of angry “victims” grows, his reputation as the feared “cutoff man” begins to sabotage his home life. He’s forced to cut off the water of his son’s soccer coach, resulting in the vengeful coach benching Gabi’s son during a game where scouts are in attendance. In a quietly brutal scene, Gabi sinks several hard-earned shekels into a vending machine while he weeps out of desperation and anguish. Ivgy doesn’t have many lines, but he doesn’t need them—you can feel his spirit deflating ever so slowly as his face droops and his tired feet shuffle. By the end of the film, he’s a shell of a man, though his commitment to his family admirably remains intact.

Hubel’s storytelling is deliberately slow-going, and even though the film is visually arresting (his compositions are great), its grip on my attention loosened at times, though it never completely lost me. Ivgy’s slow, gloomy descent into agony and desperation is akin to Antonio Ricci’s downward spiral in Vittorio de Sica’s terrific Bicycle Thieves. While Gabi’s story easily could have been told as a short film, the added length helps the emotional heft of his plight sink in deep.

Alex Karpovsky (most famously known for his work in Lena Dunham’s Girls and Tiny Furniture) plays an (assumedly) extra-neurotic version of himself á la Larry David in Red Flag, a meta dark comedy that’s somehow both navel-gazey and droningly indifferent. The film opens with Karpovsky being unceremoniously booted out of the life (and apartment) of his girlfriend of seven years (Caroline White). With angst and heartache bubbling beneath his Brooklyn-indie button-ups and sweatshirts, we follow him as he tours the Southern states showing his real-life sophomore film, Woodpecker, in tiny arthouse theaters and college campuses, slinging DVD’s for extra cash.

After a routine Q&A, he hooks up with a clingy indie groupie (Jennifer Prediger, playing an obsessive psycho version of Rachel Leigh Cook in She’s All That.) As the tour rolls on, Karpovsky is joined by the Prediger, his old friend (Onur Tukel, who forms a love connection with Prediger), and White, who he’s convinced to give him a second chance (after loads of overly-wordy begging that echoes John Cusack in High Fidelity.) When the truth about Karpovsky and Prediger’s one-night-stand surfaces, the group implodes.

Red Flag had me chuckling through my nose consistently throughout, but not once did it evoke the kind of belly laughs I get from the work of Woody Allen and Larry David (whose humor Karpovsky clearly derives from.) He’s got the right idea, but lacks finesse. Though I struggled to connect with his style of anxiety-fueled humor, he shows clear potential (a naggy phone exchange with his real-life Russian mother is a highlight.)

The film’s running gags—one involving Karpovsky swapping the word “frittata” for “fuck” as an anger-management exercise, and another in which he pleads with hotel managers for a late morning checkout—woefully fall into “diminishing returns” territory. Every time he’d “nerd-rage” on inanimate objects (a frequent occurrence), the triteness of it all would chop my interest down a notch.

The film looks pretty crummy, as drab as the yellow two-star motels Karpovsky and company laze through. It’s difficult to recall any interesting shots, though the cast occupies the screen well; they all have interesting faces and, more importantly, put on fine performances. Tukel in particular kept me engaged with his infectious bearded grin and weirdo optimism. Karpovsky’s 21^st century neurotic nerd shtick (familiar to fans of his work on Girls) feels energy-deprived here. Whenever the film ventures into dark, existential territory it ends up feeling a bit weightless due to Karpovsky’s apathetic delivery. He does, however, hit his stride in scenes where he’s able to vocalize his character’s labyrinthine thought process.

Karpovsky has easy chemistry with his co-stars and the clever dialogue flows naturally, which shows skill—the script is simply a rough outline for the actors to follow and fill in the blanks as they shoot (a system utilized by Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm that affords the actors plenty of breathing room.) Though the premise of Red Flag is meta by nature, at the end of the day it amounts to little more than a decently entertaining yet largely dispensable road trip movie.

Red Flag trailer: