Movie reviews: Hit Man, Songs of Earth, Am I OK? 

• Netflix
• Hit Man

Hit Man
Richard Linklater has spent more than 30 years being so good at making risk-taking indie cinema that it's easy to forget how great he can also be at pure pop entertainment. Wildly fictionalized from the story of a real person, it follows Gary Johnson (Glen Powell), a philosophy professor who moonlights as an audio technician for New Orleans Police Department sting operations—until he's called into undercover duty himself to pose as a contract killer, trying to nab those attempting to "hire" him. The job gives the mild-mannered Gary an opportunity to dig into alternate facets of his personality, and Powell has an absolute blast playing the different variations on an assassin-for-hire he concocts for his would-be clients (including one that feels like he's doing Tilda Swinton). Things go a bit sideways when he gets personally involved in the case of a woman (Adria Arjona) trying to get rid of her emotionally abusive boyfriend, and the two leads have such a great chemistry that it's easy to forget how improbable it seems that Gary so effortlessly leaves behind his Clark Kent persona (complete with glasses) to become a badass Superman. And that's really the bottom line for how effective Linklater and Powell (who co-wrote the screenplay) are at making this an effervescent blast to watch, no matter how convoluted the completely manufactured portions of the plot get. Sometimes, you just want to watch a filmmaking team commit completely to a crazy premise—and like Linklater did with Jack Black in School of Rock, find the perfect delivery system for a star's charisma. Available June 7 via Netflix. (R)

• Songs pf Earth

Songs of Earth
Individually, both of these things sound like the stuff of a nice, earnest documentary: plenty of beautiful photography of natural landscapes, and reflections by a filmmaker's parents on their lives. Yet somehow, director Margareth Olin pulls them together for a surprisingly affecting reflection on the passage of time and the relationship between humans and their environment. Olin spends a year with her parents, Jørgen and Manghild Mykløen, in her hometown of Oldedalen, Norway, observing the changing of the seasons and following Jørgen—still an avid hiker at the age of 84—through the mountains and fjords surrounding the family land. Along the way, we hear them describe a generations-long family history in that place—represented physically by a century-old spruce tree planted by Jørgen's grandfather—and many of those stories describe hardship and tragedy. Instead of coming off as depressing, however, those narratives capture the reality of the natural world as sometimes harsh, which works in perfect counterpoint to Olin's images of calving glaciers, roaring waterfalls and majestic hillsides. This is also clearly a tale of mortality—Olin occasionally zooms in on the weathered topography of Jørgen's skin—as the filmmaker contemplates the inevitable passing of her parents, who clearly adore one another. But by linking this story to the cycle of the seasons, Olin creates something about living within a grand scope of time, and appreciating our place within it. Available June 7 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

• Max
• Am I ok?

Am I OK?
"Nice" is such a wimpy descriptor, but I'm struggling to come up with something that feels more apt for this amiable comedy drama from co-directors Tig Notaro and Stephanie Allyne and writer Lauren Pomerantz. It's the tale of two 30-something best friends in Los Angeles—Lucy (Dakota Johnson) and Jane (Sonoya Mizuno)—whose relationship faces the complication of Jane's upcoming work transfer to London, just as Lucy is struggling with the realization that she might be gay. Pomerantz's screenplay leans into the shorthand relationship between the two besties, and finds some delicate moments in the less-often-told later-in-life coming-out story, as Lucy contemplates risking a relationship with a co-worker (Kiersey Clemons, radiating flirty energy). The challenge is that most of the dramatic weight falls on Lucy's side of the story, with Jane feeling more like a supporting player than an equal part of the narrative since "how do I feel about moving to London" can't possibly feel as potent as "how do I feel about taking on a radically different identity." Still, there's an easy chemistry between Johnson and Mizuno, and Johnson nails a kind of risk-averse quarter-life uncertainty that in her case could all go back to an inability to understand her true self. It's funny, sincere, a little clunky—but mostly, it's nice. Available June 6 via Max. (R)