Mendel, an old man in Bernard Malamud‘s story “Idiots First,” is about to die. But he must find the entire sum of money with which to send his adult son Isaac, who today would be considered “mentally challenged,” to live with Isaac’s elderly uncle before Mendel does die. The money is infernally difficult to obtain.

In this last period of his life, Mendel’s burden is not really Isaac but Ginzburg, the grim reaper and a creature of “awful wrath.” To this supernatural follower-of-a-cosmic-law Mendel must succumb. The letter kills. But Ginzburg can be cast to the side. And, not a mere “idiot,” Isaac can be rescued for a time.

Malamud’s tale is a provocative jewel wherein a hard life is, alas, followed by desperation. And the tale is edifying.

At first, with its relatively simple animation, the French-made Funan (2018) may seem to be a children’s film. But it isn’t. It is a pronouncedly dark adult picture about life in Cambodia beginning in 1975, the action revolving around a middle-class family of four.

The communist Angkar—or the Khmer Rouge—has taken over the country, and Mom and Dad must persistently think hard about how to survive. And how to find their little son who, along with his grandmother, is taken away by the commies.

Funan spares us very little from this time period. Angkar is disgustingly cruel, wholly vile. Cambodians are overworked in the fields and begin to die from hunger; an exploited woman kills herself. There is no sensationalism, though, just as there are no strong characterizations except, maybe, for that of Sok. The film, at any rate—directed and co-written by Denis Do—is venerable.

Reportedly more than a third of millennials support communism. If they want what is shown in this movie, they can have it.

(In French with English subtitles. Available on Netflix.)

With relentless expertise Jeff Bridges plays, in 1993’s Fearless, a man who marvelously survives a terrible jet plane crash only to strongly suspect he is indestructible, thus turning fearless. He is afraid of nothing, including the truth (so he refuses to lie).

Directed by Peter Weir, the film’s themes are: man as “god” (like Alexander the Great) or at least “angel”; the rewards, and non-rewards, of experience; marriage and one’s acting against it; and grief. . . Weir does a felt and savvy job of filming Rafael Yglesias‘s screenplay, based on his novel. And a riveting novelistic work it is.