By M. Faust

Is the pendulum swinging back to movies for grown-ups? Deadpool & Wolverine and Venom may be big hits, but otherwise comic book movies have been tanking at the box office. October brought a surfeit of horror movies, capping a trend that also may be ebbing. And while local theaters this week are dominated by holiday movies from the Indian subcontinent (according to the Times of India, the appropriate sentiment is “Wishing you a Diwali filled with laughter, love, and every blessing”), a handful of new releases show that the movie industry might finally be moving away from slam-bang CGI showcases. 

It’s not that I’m not grateful for this. But as churlish as I feel saying it, I wish that these movies were better than they are. I was disappointed by “We Live in Time,” whose flashy structure and strong performances couldn’t compensate for a weak script. And I’m sad to say that the new releases “Here” and “Conclave” suffer from the same problem. 

“Here” is being marketed as a reunion for the cast and creators of Forrest Gump. More than that, it shows director Robert Zemeckis once again playing with new film technologies, as he did in movies like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” “The Polar Express” and “The Walk.” Borrowing the visual nature of the graphic novel by Richard McGuire from which it was adapted (Zemeckis and Eric Roth wrote the screenplay), “Here” is entirely shot from a single perspective inside the living room of a New Jersey house as it is occupied by different owners. 

The same perspective extends back in time for scenes from before the house was built, as far back as when dinosaurs used the same area for an egg-laying ground. (Any resemblance to Terence Malick’s “The Tree of Life” is surely intentional.) 

HERE

Mostly, “Here” focuses on the occupancy of two generations of a single family, beginning with World War II veteran Al (Paul Bettany) and his wife Rose (Kelly Reilly) on through their son Richard (Tom Hanks) and his wife Margaret (Robin Wright). 

The movie weaves dreamily among various time eras, showing us a young native couple, a colonial era family building the large neighboring mansion, and the family that moves in after Richard and Margaret have left. Transitions occur through the use of visual windows inside the frame, sometimes imparting a partial scene, sometimes expanding fully, though always maintaining the same perspective as if shot by an eternal but immobile camera. 

It’s easier to watch than it is to explain, and the seamlessness of it all is a technical marvel. Somewhat less effective is the AI de-aging technology used to allow Hanks and Wright to play their characters from teenagers to oldsters. It’s the same tool that Martin Scorsese used in “The Irishman.” In both films, I was less bothered by it than many other reviewers, but no matter how high your ability to suspend disbelief it is generally a distraction that takes us out of the movie. 

But all this digital wizardry is put to the service of a story that lacks any real depth. “Here” wants to be sentimental, but it is mostly just glum, as the framing (so like that of a sitcom) becomes a prison for its primary characters. Unlike the earlier inhabitants — a man so enamored of aviation that he buys his own plane, an inventor who designs the first reclining chair — Al and Richard are failures, men whose dreams disappear under the burden of making a living to support their families. Their wives aren’t any happier, though. While Margaret makes a break for freedom, I couldn’t help comparing her fate to that of the character Wright played in “Forrest Gump,” who is punished horribly for daring to leave home. 

(The one genuinely moving moment in the movie really has nothing to do with the primary story, as the parents of the Black family that last inhabits the house sit their teenage son down for The Talk: how to behave when pulled over by a traffic officer so as to avoid being shot.) 

Like “Here,” “Conclave” is an enjoyable film to watch until the final reel, when you realize that it hasn’t gone to any of the places you expected it to. Based on a best-selling novel of the type I didn’t realize existed anymore, the story begins with the death of the Pope and charts the process by which a new one is chosen. (If this reminds you of the excellent 2011 Italian comedy “We Have a Pope,” by Nanni Moretti, put any such expectations aside.) 

The assumption is that we are in the territory of the conspiracy thriller, maybe something along the lines of “The DaVinci Code.” I happily sat back to ponder who among the College of Cardinals would turn out to be the bad guy seeking to turn things to nefarious ends. Could it be Bellini (Stanley Tucci), the progressive who claims not to want the job at all but will take it to keep out reactionary Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto)? Or maybe Tremblay (John Lithgow) — does that inoffensive exterior mask hidden ambitions? What about Wozniak (Jacek Koman), the Cardinal whom no one has ever heard of? And then there’s Sister Agnes: she doesn’t say much, but if she wasn’t going to be important to the story they wouldn’t have cast Isabella Rossellini in the part, would they? Managing all of this is the late Pope’s aide, Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), but anyone who has ever read Agatha Christie’s “The Murder of Roger” Ackroyd knows better than to rule out narrator. 

With able performances by a top cast and handsome production values, Conclave proceeds engrossingly for most of its two hours until you start to realize that there really isn’t any big underlying conspiracy here, just a lot of banal parables about the dangers of ambition. And just when you’ve settled down to accept the bland but acceptable conclusion, you’re hit with an out-of-left-field revelation that seems to want to add some kind of gravitas but instead adds absolutely nothing to the rest of the story. It’s worth seeing as the kind of movie Hollywood doesn’t seem to want to bother with anymore, but don’t get your hopes up top high. 

(PS. “Conclave” was directed by Edward Berger, who was nominated for an Oscar for “All Quiet on the Western Front.” He is not, however, an Oscar winner, despite all the advertising calling him one.)