Belle (2014)

“Belle” is inspired by history, a 1770s Scottish painting of a half-black woman named Dido Elizabeth Belle on equal level with her Anglo cousin. The posing thumped historic, with the slave trade going on full hell tilt. “Belle” leans standard fictional Brit family drama cum courtroom thriller hoopla, thought it scores marks for telling that Britain and America built their empires on slavery. Fact. Story: Dido (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is raised by distant, but wealthy relatives (Tom Wilkinson and Emily Watson) when life already was bleak for women –- zero rights. Her obstacles are fierce. Nonetheless, she finds suitors, one an anti-slavery proponent (Sam Reid). Meanwhile, Wilkinson’s high-court judge hears a case on slave cargo and insurance. His decision could topple the sick practice and bring economic ruin. (No more free labor.) Belle obsesses on the case. She swipes evidence, dressed in a hooded robe that had me thinking “Jedi.” Heroic Reid shouts so many truth and justice speeches, I thought, “He’d make a great Superman!” Miscast Tom Felton doesn’t help as a snarling bigot. Is he aware he’s no longer playing Malfoy? Amma Asante’s drama is problematic, yes. Look past that. B

Only Lovers Left Alive (2014)

Art House Golden Rule: One must love Jim Jarmusch, he of “Night on Earth.” But his latest film is “Only Lovers Left Alive,” a vampire flick that itself seems eternal, a dark slog made for Gen Xers who covered their dorm walls with Trent Reznor posters, and still have only one weekly load of laundry: Black and very, very dark gray. I squirmed as 120+ minutes ticked by. Oh, Jarmusch spins amazing ideas on death of innovation -– music, poetry, the American car –- in a world of YouTube fame. Mass consumerism is the true mark of the undead. But, damn, how many slo-mo shots do we get of Tilda Swinton stalking down Tangiers alleyways as fat guys leer? She and Tom Hiddleston (Loki from “Thor”) are husband and wife, her living in North Africa with books, he in Detroit with his music, bemoaning the death of the once-thriving metropolis that gave us Chevys. I tried to bite and drink, but the Jack White as a vampire joke? Wooden stake. “Only” only comes alive when luminous Mia Wasikowski appears as a bloodsucker with no self-control. She’s sent packing too soon. C+

Captain Phillips (2013)

Great directors re-tell history through image. Paul Greengrass puts viewers inside history, as if the drama is happening in real time. His 9/11 tragedy “United 93” buckled me. “Captain Phillips” reaches higher -- despite clunky family babble talk at the opening -- at every moment and then after the action ends, our director lets the stench of violence smother as our hero (Tom Hanks) openly sobs in shell shock. You know the story: In 2009, four Somali bandit pirates took command of a U.S. cargo ship off the horn of Africa, and when their shit hijack plan went south, they jumped in a lifeboat with New Englander and freighter captain Richard Phillips (Hanks). Assured as death, the men invite the full force of the U.S Navy. Don’t fuck with America. Greengrass shows the pirates as desperate men out for mere money, clueless to the animal they unleashed, and Americans as trapped in first-world glory. Intense and highly claustrophobic, Greengrass captures the terrible, unknowable toll of crime -– terrorism, whatever you call it -– on body and soul. As the pirate leader, American immigrant and film newcomer Barkhad Abdi equals Hanks’ astonishing performance. His character may be outgunned. Not the actor. A

Bouncing Cats (2010)

The documentary “Bouncing Cats” is not making it into every cinema in the nation, but it should. The film follows Breakdance Project Uganda, brainchild of Abraham “Abramz” Tekya, a man who grew up in the African nation that long has been drowning in a bloodbath of British rule, war and godless rulers such as Amin and Kony. The concept seems almost trite: How will hip hop dance moves help thousands of children who know nothing but poverty, violence and illiteracy. Director/writer Nabil Elderkin tells his tale well, and admits that, no, just dancing won’t help lift these youth to happiness. They need more. Many celebrities appear: Richard “Crazy Legs” Colon is the Bronx kid-made-man who – in a scene desperately needed -- openly sobs at the immense suffering around him. Encompassing shocking violence and utter joy, this doc will stick with you despite the not subliminal Red Bull (funder of the film) ads. B+