After a week so sparsely populated with notable new releases that this column took a breather, a trifecta of diverse debuts provides fresh alternatives to the franchise features occupying most multiplex real estate.

The most flat-out enjoyable of them is Dìdi, the narrative feature debut of writer-director Sean Wang. Wang’s previous films have been documentaries, including last year’s Oscar-nominated short Nai Nai & Wài Pó, an affectionate portrait of Wang’s grandmothers. That emphasis on family informs the autobiographical Dìdi, set in 2008 in the filmmaker’s hometown of Fremont, California.

There, his 13-year-old stand-in Chris, played by Izaac Wang (no relation), tries to make it through the summer between eighth grade and high school. It’s such a familiar American coming-of-age story, but writer-director Wang conjures both the universal aspects of first crushes, peer pressure, and fragile teen friendships with the particular details of his Asian-American family and the specific moment in time when MySpace was the pinnacle of the online experience. For instance, Chris goes by the nickname Dìdi (“little brother”) at home, and by Wang Wang among his peers, as if he’s shuttling between identities in a form of adolescent code-switching.

That home life includes his hardworking mother (Joan Chen), his newly graduated sister (Shirley Chen), and his paternal grandmother (Chang Li Hua, one of the stars of Nai Nai & Wài Pó), with his absent father back in Taiwan on business. Away from home, he makes goofy videos with his two best pals, Fahad (Raul Dial) and “Soup” (Aaron Chang) while pining for the ineffable Madi (Mahaela Park). Chris also films himself skateboarding, hoping to be the next Spike Jonze, and when an older crew takes him on as their camcorder chronicler, he finds himself in a rarified, potentially dangerous, environment.

Izaac Wang makes a great impression as Chris, capturing both the freedom and frustration of being in that liminal state between childhood and adulthood. He more than holds his own against the veteran star Joan Chen, and Dìdi is basically the story of Chris’s maturation from a narcissist youth who takes his mother for granted to someone who starts to see her as an actual person. That this gets conveyed without the film descending into pathos is a testament to the two performances at its core as well as the talent of its creator. Dìdi joins a growing roster of recent Asian-American-centered independent films (Minari, The Farewell, Past Lives) that give belated screen time to a long-neglected demographic. (Opens Thursday, August 8, at Cinema 21 and Regal Bridgeport Village.)

Nearly as entertaining, but in a much darker vein, is Cuckoo, the latest “elevated horror” to come down the pike. (Longlegs, we hardly knew ye…) This one stars yet another breakout talent from HBO’s Euphoria, Hunter Schafer, as Gretchen, a 17-year-old American who has come to live with her father, her stepmother, and their mute young daughter at a mysterious resort in the middle of a Bavarian forest. It’s not quite as creepy as the Overlook Hotel, but it does come equipped with a creepy manager played by the always welcome Dan Stevens, whose German accent is a hammy wonder.

In typical genre fashion, Gretchen immediately clues in to the fact that there’s more going on at this chalet than meets the eye, while everyone around doesn’t get what she’s so freaked out about. Sure, pregnant women occasionally wander into the lobby where Gretchen is working, vomit without explanation, and leave, but hey, these things happen. Not helping matters is the frosty relationship between our heroine and her father, as neither of them seem to want her there.

Sponsor

The cuckoo bird is, in addition to its iconic status as a clock-dweller, known for a particular behavior that provides a hint to the film’s secrets: cuckoos are nest poachers, leaving their eggs behind for others to incubate and avoiding all that tedious twig-and-grass gathering. It’s also not revealing much to say that, like a lot of horror movies these days, bodily autonomy and reproductive rights are never too far from mind. (Curious, that, eh?)

Beyond that, though, Cuckoo’s twists and turns are best discovered in the viewing. Also, I’m not sure I could plot out exactly what happens in the movie’s final third with precision if I tried. As with Longlegs, definite answers to the questions presented are not a priority, but unlike that unoriginal mélange of tropes, director Tilman Singer’s approach at least serves up distinctive imagery and truly unnerving sound design.

This is Singer’s second feature after 2018’s Luz, and he seems to have the chops to do even more fascinating stuff down the road. As it is, Cuckoo serves as a worthy showcase for Schafer’s nail-tough star power and Stevens’ wonderfully eccentric performance. (Opens Thursday, August 8, at Cinema 21, Regal Fox Tower, and other locations.)

Finally, we get the first real piece of Oscar bait this year in the form of Sing Sing, an inspirational tale about a theater troupe composed of inmates at the notorious maximum-security New York prison. Colman Domingo, Oscar-nominated for his turn as Bayard Rustin, takes on another real-life role as John “Divine G” Whitfield, an unjustly convicted prisoner who has become a prominent participant in RTA’s annual productions. By providing incarcerated people a chance to express themselves, be seen as individuals rather than numbers, and wear costumes instead of uniforms from time to time, the program claims a recidivism rate of just 3% for those who join, as compared to more than 50% for the general prison population. (Of course, correlation does not imply causation, and there’s certainly a self-selecting bias at play, but it’s still impressive.)

Theater director Brent Buell is played by another recent Oscar nominee, Paul Raci (Sound of Metal), but almost every other character in Sing Sing is played by a formerly incarcerated person and RTA veteran. That includes Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, who plays a version of himself as a newcomer to the program who initially struggles to open himself up to it. The screenplay, by Clint Bentley and director Greg Kwedar (with a story credit for Maclin and Whitfield), is based on a 2015 Esquire article that chronicled the preparation and staging of a wild, original, time-travel saga called Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code.

Sing Sing follows that process, and during the final credits we see footage from the actual production. Somehow, despite convincing performances from both professional and non-professional cast members, these snippets are almost more affecting than what’s come before. That feeling, as well as the use of so many actual RTA participants, made me wonder why this wasn’t simply made as a documentary. And that made me recall the film A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Prison, the passion project of former Northwest Film Center faculty member Bushra Azzouz that was completed after her death by her colleagues. While certainly less polished than Sing Sing, it contains an unvarnished verisimilitude that puts you in the room with the performers. Both films work to shine a light on the effectiveness of using the arts as a beacon of hope and self-realization, and fortunately Midsummer Night’s Dream is taking advantage of Sing Sing’s coattails and will be screening at Cinema 21 on August 18. (Sing Sing opens on Thursday, August 8 at the Hollywood Theatre and Cinema 21.)

ALSO THIS WEEK

A Matter of Life and Death: If you’d like to study up before next week’s screening of Martin Scorsese’s new documentary about directors Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, you could do a hell of a lot worse than catch this glorious 1946 Technicolor masterpiece about an RAF pilot who has to plead for his life to the heavenly authorities after a bureaucratic screw-up inadvertently lets him survive. (Friday, August 9, Hollywood Theatre)

Sponsor

The Man Called Noon: This rarely-screened 1973 spaghetti Western, based on a Louis L’Amour novel, stars Richard Crenna (First Blood) as an amnesiac outlaw trying to figure out who he is and who wants him dead. Presented on 16mm for maximum vintage authenticity. (Sunday and Monday, August 11 & 12, Cinemagic)

The Nyback Show: The hardy souls who have been sorting through the vast collection of the late film archivist Dennis Nyback have prepared a brand-new program of oddities, ephemera, and potentially life-changing reels of glorious 16mm celluloid. (Monday, August 12, Hollywood Theatre)

The Peacock King: Continuing its tribute to the unclassifiable oeuvre of Hong Kong filmmaker Lam Ngai Kai (aka Lam Nai Choi), Cinemagic presents this gonzo 1988 effort about a pair of monks trying to stop an evil witch from opening the gates of Hell and plunging the world into darkness and chaos. (Monday and Wednesday, August 12 & 14, Cinemagic)

The Hellstrom Chronicle: As part of its “Animals Attack” series this month, the Clinton Street Theater is screening this rare, weird, Oscar-winning (over The Sorrow and the Pity!) 1971 documentary, which explains how insects will ultimately inherit the earth from us puny (and far too individualistic) humans. It’s a great example of ’70s-style paranormal propaganda in the vein of Chariots of the Gods and In Search Of…. And it’s almost impossible to watch legally. (Tuesday, August 13, Clinton St. Theater)