Producers: Kelly McKendry, Scott MacLeod, Carl Effenson, Stephen Camelio and Joshua Caldwell   Director: Joshua Caldwell   Screenplay: Stephen Camelio   Cast: Sinqua Walls, Brian Cox, Perry Mattfeld, Chris Galust, Patricia Heaton, Wes Studi and Michaela Sasner   Distributor: Blue Fox Entertainment

Grade: C+

The potential therapeutic benefits of fly-fishing for military veterans (and, presumably, others) suffering from PTSD are dramatized in this earnest but manipulative film from Stephen Camelio and Joshua Caldwell.  “Mending the Line” is reminiscent of the blandly well-intentioned fare that was once a staple of network television like the Hallmark Hall of Fame, but it’s elevated to some extent by strong lead performances from Sinqua Walls and Brian Cox. 

Walls plays John Colter, a wounded Marine traumatized by a botched mission in Afghanistan; he blames himself for the deaths of many in his squad.  He’s received treatment elsewhere in the VA system, but has arrived at a medical facility in Montana, whose head Dr. Burke (Patricia Heaton) will, he hopes, sanction his return to active duty.  After watching how volatile he can be, she suggests that he might benefit from going fly-fishing with another of her patients, Ike Fletcher (Cox), a grizzled Vietnam vet who’s been suffering from blackouts, which she fears could be dangerous if he has one while out fishing alone.  Colter isn’t exactly enthused of the idea, but goes to visit Fletcher at his cabin.

Cantankerous Ike is no more enthusiastic at the thought of teaching a newbie the secrets of a sport that, from the content of his home, he takes very seriously, and gives Colter a quick brush-off.  But taking the advice of the old man’s close, and perhaps only, friend Harrison (Wes Studi), Colter decides to do some homework on fly fishing and approaches local librarian Lucy (Perry Mattfeld) for some books on the subject.  But beset by her own emotional problems—she’s still grieving the loss of her fiancé in a motorcycle crash, and his mother (Michaela Sasner), obsessed with keeping her son’s memory alive, won’t let her move on—Lucy initially brushes him off, too.  She soon relents, however, and the next time Colter approaches Ike, he’s not unprepared.

Thus begins what might be called the “Karate Kid” part of the film, in which Fletcher assigns the Marine mundane tasks designed, he’ll eventually explains, to teach him the most valuable lesson in fly-fishing—no, not patience, but humility.  Then they’re off to Fletcher’s favorite fishing spot, and Colter is taught to “mend the line”—manipulating the line after the throw to enhance the possibility of attracting the fish to the lure.  John is surprised that Ike always releases a caught fish back into the water, saying his military experience persuaded him never to kill again.  That’s a sign of the trauma he too suffered; like Colter he first turned to alcohol to dampen his guilt, until he discovered the serenity fly-fishing brought him.  It’s also an indication that he still needs some sort of closure as much as John and Lucy do.

Things come to a head for all of them in the film’s last act, which becomes a sort of redemption tale three times over.  It would be untrue to say that the twists avoid cloyingness and contrivance, including a good deal of backsliding on Colter’s part, but if Walls, Cox and Mattfeld can’t make them all convincing, they at least make them go down relatively painlessly; Cox even brings conviction to some awfully obvious monologues.  A coda also allows for Colter to become a teacher of sorts, bringing the joys of the sport he’s mastered to others—not just Lucy, but other vets, like the dejected Kovacs (Chris Galust).

There’s some lovely Montana scenery in “Mending the Line”—a title, of course, intended to convey a double meaning–and cinematographer Eva M. Cohen makes the most of it in her widescreen images.  Elsewhere her work is proficient but unremarkable, as is that of production designer Freddy Waff.  Will Torbett’s editing tends toward the sluggish, as does Caldwell’s direction—the film demands considerable patience—and Bill Brown’s score is positively syrupy.  (One sighs in relief when it goes silent.)

But the ensemble helps one get over the maudlin parts.  Heaton is rather wasted and Sasner overacts, but Studi brings some whimsical humor to Harrison.  And while Mattfeld can be stiff, Walls manages to put over even the sequence in which a visit to a buzzy bar brings on flashbacks to Afghanistan and sends him back to the bottle. 

But it’s Cox who makes the decidedly calculating and predictable movie as watchable as it is.  Stardom has come late to the actor, who has long been reliable in supporting character roles as well as stunning in a few lead ones (like Michael Cuesta’s “L.I.E.,” which also provided Paul Dano with his first opportunity to shine), but better late than never.  He makes Ike Fletcher, for all his orneriness, a character you want to spend some time with, especially when he’s casting his line—and then mending it.

Producers: Lorenzo di Bonaventura, Dom DeSanto, Don Murphy, Michael Bay, Mark Vahradian and Duncan Henderson   Director: Steven Caple Jr.   Screenplay: Joby Harold, Darnell Metayer, Josh Peters, Erich Hoeber and Jon Hoeber   Cast: Anthony Ramos, Dominique Fishback, Luna Lauren Vélez, Dean Scott Vazquez, Tobe Nwigwe, Sarah Stiles, Michael Kelly, and the voices of Peter Cullen, Ron Perlman, Peter Dinklage, Michelle Yeoh, Liza Koshy, John DiMaggio, David Sobolov, Michaela Jaé Rodriguez, Pete Davidson, Colman Domingo, Cristo Fernandez and Tongayi Chirisa    Distributor: Paramount

Grade: C-

For better or worse, “Rise of the Beasts” is a “Transformers” movie for “Transformers” fans, one that makes little effort to appeal in the slightest to anyone else, as “Bumblebee,” the initial installment in this prequel phase of the franchise, did to its credit.  “Beasts,” a period piece like its predecessor (it’s set in 1994, seven years after “Bumblebee”), does try to emulate that superior entry by giving its human characters some depth, but unlike the youngsters played by Hailee Steinfeld and Jorge Lendeborg Jr. in the previous picture, the terrestrials this time around are a pretty pallid pair.

They’re Noah Diaz (Anthony Ramos) and Elena Wallace (Dominique Fishback). He’s an ex-soldier struggling to find a job to help his single Brooklyn mom (Luna Lauren Vélez) and his adorable kid brother Kris (Dean Scott Vazquez), whose treatment for sickle cell disease is being cut off by the hospital because of non-payment.  Hobbled by a poor reference from a military superior, Noah reluctantly agrees to help hip neighborhood hustler Reek (Tobe Nwigwe) do a car heist.

Elena’s a museum worker expert at identifying archaeological artifacts, whose boss (Sarah Stiles) takes credit for her work.  When an odd bird sculpture (looking rather like the Maltese Falcon) is delivered, Elena suggests that it’s not Egyptian, as believed, but of Aztec or Mayan origin.  When she surreptitiously analyzes it, it cracks open, revealing a glowing rod hidden inside.

That is, in fact, a transwarp key which, as a prologue has informed us, was taken from their planet by a group of Maximals headed by Optimus Primal (voiced by Ron Perlman) to prevent it from being used by the world-devouring Unicron (Colman Domingo), who had conquered their abode, to zoom to yet another tasty planet.  Its uncovering is detected by Unicron, who sends his cruel lieutenant Scourge (Peter Dinklage) and a bunch of other Terrorcons to retrieve it.

But its presence is also intuited by the good Autobots, headed by Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen), who have been hiding in vehicular form on earth and need it to get home.  He summons all of them to the museum, including Mirage (Pete Davidson), who happens to be the car Noah is trying to steal.  He takes the human along with him on a wild chase with police in full pursuit, the first of the movie’s big set-pieces.  Scourge and his forces also arrive at the museum, leading to the second, a battle between Autobots and Terrorcons in which Optimus is saved by the sudden arrival of Maximal Airazor (Michelle Yeoh). 

In the aftermath it’s revealed that what Scourge has acquired is only half the key, and both Noah and Elena are enlisted in the Autobots’ search for the remaining half.  That takes them all to Peru, where the other Maximals come out of hiding to aid in defeating Scourge.  Many further battles follow before…well, you know.  Presumably sequels are intended to bridge the gap between this narrative and that of Michael Bay’s 2007-2017 series of five films; one of the two final-credits interpolations, featuring Ramos and Michael Kelly, suggests that another moribund Paramount franchise might somehow be melded into the continuation.

If you understand any of this folderol, you’re clearly in the target audience of “Rise of the Beasts.”  Stephen Caple Jr. directs with efficiency if little imagination, while Ramos, Fishback and the other human actors attempt to keep straight faces while going through the paces of their threadbare characters, though it’s difficult when the dialogue concocted by no fewer than five writers recalls nothing more than clichés familiar from forties chapter serials and innumerable B-action pictures.  The same sort of control is required of the voice performers, and one must feel especially sorry for Dinklage, who has to deliver Scourge’s tediously repeated orders to kill folks with a semblance of conviction.  The screenplay does make some attempt to include intentional humor in the mix, mostly in terms of the contributions of Davidson’s Mirage, but these often come across as limp improvisation on the part of the actor.

The greater part of the picture consists, however, not of live action but computer animation, and the effects, supervised by Gary Brozenich, are decent enough, even if over the course of two hours they become awfully repetitive.  Under the circumstances the production design (Sean Haworth) and widescreen cinematography (Enrique Chediak) are more than adequate, though editors William Goldenberg and Joel Negron could easily have trimmed some of the tedious battle footage.  The music score by Jongnic “JB” Bontemps is generic bombast, but one appreciates it because the first forty minutes or so of the movie are accompanied by a parade of hideous hip-hop numbers, and their replacement by orchestral material, however banal, comes as respite.

It appears that “Bumblebee” was but a momentary uptick in this generally dreadful toy-based movie franchise.  “Rise of the Beasts” isn’t as bad as the worst of the Bay series, but it’s mediocre, and certainly doesn’t provide justification for further installments, except perhaps in box office terms.