“Supergirl”

One year since James Gunn’s “Superman” (2025) kicked off DC Studios’ latest
effort to reestablish its suite of superheros on the big screen, we meet another
member of the Kryptonian diaspora. As the titular Supergirl, Milly Alcock plays
Kara Zor-El, Superman/Clark Kent’s hard-drinking party girl cousin, who’s spent
the better part of the year celebrating her birthday on an intergalactic pub crawl
(like her cousin, she derives her powers from the rays of the yellow sun, but
planets with red ones allow the booze to hit her bloodstream harder).

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Her solecompanion is Krypto, the lovable super-mutt who all but stole last year’s film. However, when the ruthless barbarian Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) shoots
Krypto with a poison dart, Kara is forced to cut the party short, joining forces with revenge-bent alien-orphan Ruthye (Eve Ridley) to track down the villain and retrieve the antidote.

The Gunn-helmed “Superman” ably reintroduced its iconic cast of characters but
nearly drowned them in an ocean of shared universe place-settings. Thankfully,
“Supergirl” is largely self-contained. Alcock is winningly charismatic as the oft-inebriated heroine, closer to Natasha Lyonne than the 1984 original’s Helen
Slater. The plot borrows liberally from “True Grit” (1969), casting her as Rooster
Cogburn by way of Ke$ha.

Apart from Supes himself, who appears in a series of lovably concerned video messages, the only gratuitous cameo is Jason Momoa as cigar-chomping space biker Lobo (Momoa played Aquaman in the last DC cycle, but he’s such a perfect match for this ’90s antihero that the double-dipping is easy to forgive). Most blessedly of all, “Supergirl” clocks in at well under two hours, with an ending that actually concludes its own story rather than breathlessly setting up the next five films.

Given “Supergirl” is a contemporary cape flick it comes with many of the common pitfalls of the genre: cruddy CGI, a forgettable villain, an interminable third act battle against a legion of faceless henchmen atop a floating spaceship. Those afflicted with superhero fatigue are unlikely to find a magic cure on Krem’s
keychain. Still, in a time when Hollywood is choked with bloated blockbusters,
“Supergirl” is refreshingly lightweight. It may not be more powerful than a
locomotive, but it’s a diverting bit of summer pop nonsense — which is what
superhero movies were supposed to be in the first place. — Oscar Goff

At Kendall Square Cinema, Apple Cinemas Cambridge, and AMC Assembly Row

“Leviticus”

Nothing like a homophobic township with the power of God behind it to execute a modern version of the “Crucible,” complete with supernatural manifestations.
Adrian Chiarella’s directorial debut depicts two teens who are tormented for who
they are by the usual posse of bullies, as well as a supernatural manifestation.

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We meet the boyishly naive Naim (Joe Bird) and edgier Ryan (Stacy Clausen) as
two kids exploring an abandoned mill. They get to horsing around, trading
punches and falling to the ground in a violent bear hug that quickly relaxes into a
loose hug and ultimately a kiss. There it is, they’re rebel lovers going against the
grain in the deeply religious rural Australian town where they live.

Naim later witnesses Ryan intimately grappling with another classmate, Hunter
(Jeremy Blewitt). Jealous, Ryan tells the town’s pastor (Ewen Lesley), who
happens to be Hunter’s dad. What ensues is an exorcism performed by a “deliverance preacher” (Nicholas Hope) brought in to force the gay out of the lads
(Naim’s mom, Mia Wasikowska of “Alice in Wonderland,” forces him to endure
the ritual because he’s too close to Ryan).

It seems hokey at first, but the brief fire and brimstone rite unleashes a personal
demon that torments each boy in isolation, by taking the form of the person each
boy desires most (Naim for Ryan, and vice versa). Lust is its lure, bloodlust its
mission. It’s a frightening change that no one else can see, and it leads to terrible
ends first for a young woman and then for Hunter. Yet somehow, their bullying
classmates manage to be worse.

The film’s title refers to the Bible’s third book, which contains Old Testament laws defining sin, purity and sexual conduct that some use to condemn homosexuality.

The small-town dwellers are shepherded into an angry horde by Hope’s outsider.
The performances by Bird and Clausen are pivotal, and the rest of the ensemble
are also strong. But the characters of Naim and especially Ryan feel
underdeveloped. The supernatural element also is wispy. The message,
however, is not. Chiarella creates effective eerie and edgy moments. He’s
another budding horror auteur like Kane Parsons (“Obsession”) and Curry Baker
(“Backrooms”), who know how to craft mood and scene beyond their years, but
have room to grow to conjure spirit and soul. — Tom Meek

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Playing at Kendall Square Cinema and AMC Assembly Row 12