Producers: Julia Lebedev, Eddie Vaisman, Angel Lopez and Kobi Libii   Director: Kobi Libii   Screenplay: Kobi Libii   Cast: Justice Smith, David Alan Grier, An-Li Bogan, Drew Tarver, Michaela Watkins, Aisha Hinds, Nicole Byer, Rupert Friend and Tim Baltz   Distributor: Focus Features

Grade: C

Kobi Libii attempts a delicate balancing act in his feature debut, a satirical poke at race relations in America, and though he lacks the finesse to pull it off, one can respect the intent.  Aiming to ridicule both the innate fear of blacks among whites and the inclination of some blacks to deflect it with deference, “The American Society of Magical Negroes” is ambitious but too soft-grained to leave much of an impact.

The magical Negro, in succinct terms, is a stock character in American literature and film—the folksy, unthreatening black who steps forward at a crucial moment to assist a white protagonist with his pure, wise advice and magically defuse a difficult situation. The premise of Libii’s script is that there exists a society of such figures who have been recruited because of their natural character to fulfill this function, are taught the tactics of the trade by example of their experienced colleagues, and then are assigned to specific whites in need of their services.  By assuaging their clients’ egos, they will make the world safer for everyone, especially African-Americans.

The narrative is centered on Aren (Justice Smith), a sculptor whose works in fabric are dismissed in gallery showings and who is virtually ignored by white patrons, who are more likely to treat him as a waiter than an artist.  He’s observed by Roger (David Alan Grier), the bartender at his latest unsuccessful showing, who deftly handles a situation at an ATM where Aren’s wrongly accused of theft on his way home and then introduces him to the Society, centered in a secret headquarters behind a storefront, as a potential recruit.

Despite his reservations Aren accepts the invitation and assists his sponsor Roger in addressing the case of Miller (Tim Baltz), a cop who feels socially inadequate.  Afterward, armed with some magical tools—an ability to teleport and a device by which he can gauge a person’s emotional temperature—he’s assigned his first solo mission: to play the part of helpful pal to Jason (Drew Tarver), a software designer at a tech company called MeetBox who thinks his talents aren’t sufficiently appreciated.  Taking a cubicle next to Jason’s, Aren easily becomes his chief confidant, praising his talent and insights even as the company, headed by Mick (Rupert Friend), an insufferably confident Australian mogul who offers uplifting spiels to his employees as the need arises, is roiled in a scandal involving its face-recognition program’s inability to deal with Black visages.

A romantic element intrudes when Aren recognizes Jason’s co-designer Lizzie (An-Li Bogan) as a girl he’d recently met at a coffee shop and is interested in.  As part of his effort to make Jason feel better about himself, Aren encourages him to notice Lizzie, unintentionally setting the stage for a romantic triangle in which he’ll be expected to suppress his own chances with her in order to do his job.  That problem is exacerbated by Mick’s sexist decision to choose Jason, rather than Lizzie, as the spokesperson for a new product announcement.  Will Aren be able to restrain himself, holding to his assigned position of subservience as the preening Jason, who’s oblivious to his sense of male privilege as well as his racism, takes credit that he should share with Lizzie?  Aren has, after all, been taught the rules he must follow not only by Roger, but by head trainer Gabbard (Aisha Hinds) and the imperious chief of the entire Society, Dede (Nicole Byer).  Will he break them? 

The eventual self-liberation of Aren from the strictures of the peculiar group he’s joined is pretty much a foregone conclusion, but as presented here it’s a pretty tame rebellion; and it doesn’t affect the existence of the Society, which presumably continues its activities. The message would seem to be that the racial reality in the United States is pretty much unchangeable, and that the need for “magical Negroes” will never disappear, no matter how many blacks might refuse to accept the role. 

And in any event Smith, as the messenger of liberation in this case, is so low-key even in rebellion that the impact is muted.  But then he’s been a sort of sad sack throughout, so perhaps one shouldn’t expect more, especially since Libii’s direction is also so laid-back and Brian Scott Olds’s editing is equally lackadaisical.  Bogan is pleasant enough and Taver convincingly obtuse, and Hinds and Byer cut imposing figures (the former the more amusing of the two, since Byer comes off too one-note).  But the cast member one’s most likely to appreciate is Grier, a master of bemused astonishment who puts that talent to good use here.  Laura Fox’s production design is solid, especially in the MeetBox and Society headquarters scenes, as are Derica Cole Washington’s costumes; and Doug Emmett’s widescreen cinematography is fine if unexceptional.  The same can be said of Emilien Lazaron’s visual effects and Michael Abels’ score.

In the end one can admire what Libii wants to achieve in “The American Society of Magical Negroes” more than what he actually accomplishes.

Producers: Tucker Tooley, Mark Canton, Courtney Solomon, Tessa Tooley, Mark Wahlberg and Stephen Levinson   Director: Simon Cellan Jones   Screenplay: Michael Brandt   Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Simu Liu, Juliet Rylance, Nathalie Emmanuel, Ali Suliman, Viktor Åkerblom, Cece Valentina, Paul Guilfoyle and Ukai     Distributor: Lionsgate

Grade: C

An over-calculated combination of endurance adventure and doggie tearjerker designed to melt the hardest of hearts, “Arthur the King” is based on a true story, though screenwriter Michael Brandt has Americanized it. 

In 2014 Mikael Lindnord led a four-member Swedish team on a harrowing four-hundred mile “adventure race”—involving joint running, cycling, rock-climbing and kayaking—through the Ecuadoran wilderness.  Along the way they encountered a scruffy street dog they dubbed Arthur. After being fed by Mikael, it followed them doggedly, if you’ll pardon the expression, and when it got into trouble they chose rescuing it over winning the race.  Mikael decided to adopt the animal and take it home with him, but Arthur required medical treatment for a serious infection, and for a while the outcome was touch-and-go.

Though based on the 2016 memoir “Arthur: The Dog Who Crossed the Jungle to Find a Home” by   Lindnord and Val Hudson, this version transforms Mikael into Michael Light (Mark Wahlberg), a semi-retired long-time racer living in a lovely Colorado mountain estate with his wife Helena (Juliet Rylance) and cute-as-a-button little daughter Ruby (Cece Valentina). He’s always come up short in competition, often because he fails to take advice from the other team members, and feels suffocated at the thought of joining the real estate business of his father Charlie (Paul Guilfoyle), where he’s stuck showing houses while wearing a pink T-shirt emblazoned with the Light company logo.

Determined to compete again in the 2018 world championship in the Dominican Republic, he’s told by a potential sponsor (Viktor Åkerblom) that his backing is dependent on attracting Liam (Simu Liu), whom he’d fought with over strategy in their last race but who’s since become an Instagram celebrity, to join Michael’s squad.  Liam finally agrees, but it’s eventually revealed that Michael still had to put up part of the cost himself.  The two other members of the team are Chik (Ali Suliman), an old friend with a bad knee who’s become a tour guide since the prior outing, and Olivia (Nathalie Emmanuel), a superb young athlete, specializing in rock-climbing, who accepts Michael’s invitation at the insistence of her father who, she reveals, he has terminal cancer.

The movie proceeds to the Dominican Republic, and follows the team through the first portion of the race, most notably a wild episode in which they use what appears to be a discarded old cable-car wire to zip over a huge gorge carrying their bicycles (naturally one of them gets stuck midway and must be rescued by another).  Inevitably there are other delays—one member gets dehydrated and ill, Chik’s bad knee acts up, another’s heel is scarred and enflamed. 

But what’s eventually the most important part of the trek is the appearance of the as-yet unnamed dog, which has previously been shown in inserts roaming the streets and being chased by other, nasty canines.  Michael gives the mutt a couple of the meatballs he’s heated up for himself at a rest stop, and the dog follows the group from that point on, saving Liam from falling off a cliff in the jungle as they rush on at night trying to close the gap between them and the contest leaders. 

Naming the dog Arthur for his royal mien despite his scraggly appearance, they understandably adopt him until they reach the last stage of the run—kayaking. He jumps into the water and they’re faced with the choice of abandoning the drowning animal or saving him at the cost of a victory.  The choice they make becomes a sensation online as publicity-conscious Liam posts the photos he’s been taking along the way, and when the team crosses the finish line, it’s as triumphant losers.  Michael’s decision to take Arthur for medical treatment in the States despite the odds against his survival is the culmination of the story’s emotional manipulation. 

It’s hard to determine the degree of embellishment involved here; it’s probably considerable, though the expedition photos show that much of what’s portrayed actually happened, at least to some extent.  But the script certainly omits the fact that an Ecuadoran man later claimed that the dog was his and had been kidnapped—a claim later withdrawn.  In any evet, it certainly appears that Arthur has since led a happy life with the Lindnords. 

Nonetheless, however exciting one finds the adventure racing and however endearing the man-dog bonding, the movie has serious problems.  The first half is hobbled by an excess of macho posturing, pedestrian dialogue (with Wahlberg repeatedly justifying himself by saying “a racer races”), overemphatic music (by Kevin Matley) and stolid acting. And though Ukai makes a lovably mangy Arthur, the doggie character is inconsistent from moment to moment.  In one scene he’ll be hobbling around with a lame leg, and in the next traveling easily on all four; he’ll be terrified of confinement, but then saunter quietly into a cage for the plane ride to Colorado.  

Moreover, while some of the action scenes are, thanks to the cinematography of Jacques Jouffret, extraordinary (the early rock-climbing with Wahlberg and Emmanuel, the rescue scene over the gorge), too often they’re messily staged by director Simon Cellan Jones and chaotically edited by Gary D. Roach.  In addition, the device meant to keep us informed of the team’s progress—of having homebound Helena follow their movements via GPS data on a computer screen—is both clumsy and a sad misuse of Rylance.

In the second half of the film, Wahlberg goes soft as Light drops everything else to save Arthur, and many viewers will succumb to the sniffles as Ukai does an act that rivals Camille, repeatedly at death’s door but rallying at the last moment.  Dog fanciers will be pleased to know that they needn’t fear going through the trauma of an “Old Yeller” or a “Marley & Me.” They will, however, have to endure an adventure that’s only intermittently exciting and a canine weepie that’s positively cloying.