Winter Light (Ingmar Bergman, 1963). I’m not sure where the stereotype about smothering Swedish gloom originated, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover the precise genesis point resides somewhere within the frames of Winter Light. In the characteristically lovely and measured rendering by director Ingmar Bergman, the film settles in with a weary pastor (Gunnar Björnstrand) proselytizing to a dwindling parish. He’s particularly tested when called upon to counsel a suicidal man (Max von Sydow) and, in a very different way, and respond to the declarations of romantic devotion from a school teacher (Ingrid Thulin). Although informed by a wry, understated sense of humor, the film is mostly the sort of methodically paced grim appraisal of humanity fans and detractors alike associate with Bergman. The cinematic expertise is evident, even if the narrative’s oppression gives the film a distant chill.

Blockers (Kay Cannon, 2018). A trio of female friends forge a pact to lost their respective virginities on prom night. Their parents catch wind of the scheme and launch a anxiety-riddled counteroffensive. The feature directorial debut of Kay Cannon, scripter of the Pitch Perfect films and a veteran of the 30 Rock writers’ room, doesn’t recede from its ribald premise. But there’s a unique injection of humanity amidst the dirty jokes, providing a welcome empathy as the clamorous doings mount. As the mother of one of the sexually questing teens, Leslie Mann brings her usual crack comic timing, especially in the sharpest moments, and Gideon Adlon (daughter of Pamela Adlon) has a nice, promising turn as the member of the friend group with the most questionable investment in the night’s endeavors. Among other attributes, it’s some kind of triumph that the only noteworthy nudity in a teen sex comedy is provided by a middle-aged man.

Eighth Grade (Bo Burnham, 2018). The feature directorial debut of Bo Burnham is astonishing in its insights and piercing truth. It’s also funny, warm, uncompromising, and laudably invested in an uncommonly accurate depiction of the burden of living a digitally interconnected life. Kayla (Elsie Fisher) is moving tentatively through her final days of middle school, worried about her social standing and saddened by the distance between her hopes and her reality. Not much of true import happens in the film, and yet everything is freighted with troubled meaning. Fisher is resoundingly impressive in the lead role, playing Kayla’s awkwardness with detailed honesty that accentuates the moments of escalating social dread. Josh Hamilton plays her fretful but persistently positive father with a delicate astuteness. Burnham’s screenplay is awash in tender wisdom, and his visual storytelling is superb. Eighth Grade is remarkable.