This rare sports/comedy/drama matches the charm of its influence by focusing on the perseverance and humorous undertone of “The Eagle.” Director Dexter Fletcher (“Wild Bill”) does a tremendous job of balancing the three tones of the film, by carefully detailing each stage of Edward’s life, leading up to him representing his country in the 1988 Winter Olympics ski jumping competition.

Beginning at the childhood of Eddie’s life we are introduced to an exuberant kid with aspirations of being in the Olympics, (despite having an unexplained leg brace). So aspiring, that he leaves his home in the dead of the night to travel to the Olympics to the dismay of his parents. His unbridled enthusiasm as a child instantly wins over the hearts of the audience, creating a unique underdog personality.

After getting rid of his temporary handicap, we are treated to an upbeat training montage of Eddie simulating Olympic sports in his backyard. From weightlifting to javelin throw, Edwards fails at each and every sport, which timely introduces the audience to the films comedic tone.

As Eddie grows into his young adult self, (played by “Kingsman: The Secret Service” star Taron Egerton) his talent doesn’t seem to catch up with is growth. He soon concedes to his failures, gives up on his Olympic aspirations and joins his father in his plastering business (a position that is clearly unnatural for Eddie but is sensible to his conservative father).

Luckily for Eddie, he has a supportive mother who challenges him to keep striving for his goals. So after a very short stint of working with his father, Eddie comes up with another far-fetched idea. He decides that since he cannot participate in the “regular” Olympics, he will attempt to join the Winter Olympics as a ski jumper, as he was already an established skier.

Without hesitation Eddie makes a drastic choice to immediately move out of town near a ski resort to begin training on his own. He steals his fathers van and travels hours away on a hunch that if he challenges himself, he can realize his goal.

But if only it were so easy. Lack of discernible talent is one obstacle, but what underdog story is complete without clichéd rivals and naysayers? Eddie the Eagle provides many for Eddie to face off against, but what’s surprising is not only did most his family and all his peers and competing ski jumpers doubt him, he was actually doubted by his country’s Olympic committee.

The committee, actually, constantly blocked Edwards from participating, even when he was just as qualified as everyone around him. Sure, his style was unconventional and he was quite clumsy, but he did not deserve the dismissive treatment he received. He was for all purposes pure-hearted — he never had any ulterior motives — all he wanted to do was participate.

To finally make that happen, Edwards seeks out an experienced skier to give him confidence and intangible skills to send him to the next level. Unfortunately, that’s not what he finds; instead he gets former skier and current alcoholic Bronson Peary (Hugh Jackman, “Pan”). Peary, to his credit however, was a winning ski jumper for the United States Olympic team and was even trained by well-regarded ski jumping coach Warren Sharp (Christopher Walken, “Jersey Boys”). It doesn’t take long for Peary to see a passion in Edwards that he didn’t have at his age. This spawns a mentor/protégé relationship that reels the audience in and forms an emotional bond. Jackman and Egerton should be praised for their impressionable chemistry on screen, which seemed almost effortless.

After a strenuous amount of training — along with an almost absurd amount of adversity — Edwards finds himself as the sole representative of his country in the 1988 Winter Olympics. He begins to become a worldwide rags to riches story; fans love his relatable, casual personality. To his displeasure though, his introduction to fame doesn’t bring with it recognition from his peers. He is further shunned by them, and now, even loses some of the support of his mentor.

Yet again, instead of becoming comfortable with his new-found fame or calling it quits, Edwards sees this as a competitive sign. He intends to earn his position even if it kills him and so without anyone’s instruction to do so, he enlists to participate in the hardest competition that the Olympic ski jumping sport has to offer: The 90 meter jump.

This extremely difficult task has only been attempted by the best skiers the world has ever seen, let alone completed. At this point Edwards has already attained injuries for jumps that were half as difficult as this one. None of this stops Eddie — he has this inner motivation that is so greatly displayed by Egerton, that you almost feel as though you’re watching this event happen in real-time and rooting for him will somehow bring him success.

Without giving away the ending of the film, I can say that Eddie the Eagle pulls a familiar, uplifting emotion out of the audience that hasn’t been this uniquely displayed in some time. Fletcher’s directing style took advantage of the film’s visually compelling moments, the ski jumps were beautifully filmed and edited. He also does a great job of making the film’s pacing seamless, each stage being completed in the perfect amount of time to progress the story. The cast is experienced, the plot is solid and overall, not only will you enjoy this film, you’ll remember it. And most importantly you’ll remember Eddie “The Eagle” Edwards.

“Not” running for safety.

In a moment of weakness, a middle-aged father of two tries to save himself rather than his family in a dangerous situation, an action that has deep ramifications for their relationship. Winner of the Jury Prize in the Un Certain Regard competition in Cannes in 2014 and Sweden’s official entry into the Oscar sweepstakes for Best Foreign Film, Ruben Östlund’s Force Majeure (original title “Turist”), his fourth feature and his first since “Play” in 2011, is a biting satire that has sharp teeth. Filmed at an actual resort, Les Arcs, in France, a seemingly happy and well-adjusted family that includes Tomas (Johannes Kuhnke), Ebba (Lisa Loven Kongsli), and their young children Harry (Vincent Wettergren) and Vera (Clara Wettergren), go on vacation at an expensive ski resort in the French Alps.

Ebba tells a friend that their purpose is to bring the family closer together since Tomas has been very busy at work. All seems well as they spend the first day hitting the slopes and taking pictures, but the idealized picture-postcard scene begins to unravel on the second day. Taking a break from skiing, the family has lunch at an outdoor restaurant with gorgeous mountain scenery in the background. When they suddenly witness a controlled avalanche, the force of the blowing snow seems to threaten everyone in the café. Instinctively, Ebba reaches out to protect her children, but Tomas, in a moment of panic, grabs his cell phone and runs for cover. His spur of the moment decision sends a message to the Ebba and the children, that in times of emergency, they could be abandoned.

No matter how it is rationalized away, the element of trust that cemented their relationship is broken beyond repair. To compound the problem, both seek to maintain control by suppressing and denying their feelings until they are no longer able to. In front of a couple of Norwegian friends, the divorced Mats (Kristofer Hivju), and his 20-year-old girlfriend, Fanny (Fanni Metelius), who come for a visit and are drawn into the argument, Tomas resorts to rationalization and denial. Absurdly, when they look at footage of the event captured by his cell phone, all Tomas can say is, “I agree it looks like I’m running.” Ebba’s neat little world is also threatened by a friend telling her that she and her husband maintain an open relationship, even after having two children and it all works fine.

Unwilling or unable to acknowledge his action, Tomas beats himself up with guilt and engages in a prolonged crying jag which Östlund characterizes as the moment when, “Crying stops to be poetic and starts to be something that is just miserable — deeper and deeper — but doesn’t create any sympathy, or empathy.” Though wryly observant rather than intimate and it may go on a bit too long, Force Majeure is smartly written, beautifully photographed, and darkly comic. Willing to confront deeply-rooted gender stereotypes and challenge us to look at our own life and see how we might have acted in a similar situation, it is a force of nature, both literally and figuratively.

Dysfunctional portrait.

For scrawny 12-year old Simon (Kacey Mottet Klein), life is up and down. Going up, however, does not mean moving up the ladder of success but only riding a cable car to do his “work” at the top of a mountain ski resort, a playground for wealthy tourists. Ursula Meier’s heartbreaking Sister, Switzerland’s submission for Best Foreign Film at this year’s Oscars, is built around the continual movement of the cable car, moving up to the white wonderland of the glittering slopes, and down to the crumbling housing projects that look out on a desolate and muddy industrial plain. Like the marginalized poor in America, Simon is an unnoticed presence.

He is a crafty entrepreneur whose work consists of stealing skis, gloves, goggles; sneaking in and out of locker rooms, emptying coat pockets and grabbing sandwiches and anything else he can from knapsacks to bring home to his older sister Louise (Lea Seydoux), a lay about in her early twenties who cannot hold a steady job and goes from one boyfriend to another. For Simon, a sled is not a fun ride in the snow but a means to stay alive, a tool to strap stolen skis and drag them down below to restore and repair so he can sell them to the highest bidder. Simon, of course, rationalizes his actions by saying, “They don’t miss them. They just go and buy new ones.”

Supported by a solid script by the director and Antoine Jacquod and the striking cinematography of Agnés Godard (“Beau Travail,” “The Dreamlife of Angels“), Sister takes place during the ski season from Christmas to Easter, as the camera peeks behind the glamour. When Simon is caught in the act of stealing by seasonal worker, Mike (Martin Compston), a friendly Scot, Mike automatically assumes that he’s stealing to buy more hi-tech gadgets. Taken aback when he learns that the boy is stealing to buy food, toilet paper, and other necessities to keep him and his sister alive, he joins with him in his questionable activities.

The early sequences have a bounce and energy that makes it feel as if the film may be moving in a comic direction, but comic it is not. This becomes very apparent in the film’s second half when another (somewhat strained) dimension is added to our knowledge of Simon’s love-hate bond with his sister, and we watch helplessly as their interaction changes from playful to a no holds barred display of anger and frustration. While some may see Simon as a criminal in training, Klein makes him lovable enough for us to view him as a confused little boy, desperate for affection, at times acting like an adult and at times a forlorn child. We know instinctively, however, that unless there is some sort of intervention, the path Simon is on will lead to a dead end.

Desperate for love.

Unfortunately, however, there are no parents (foster or otherwise), no social workers, no schools or teachers in sight, not even police around to put up a stop sign. People walk by him as they pass by the homeless every day in the streets of most big cities, looking away, thinking “how sad.” Nominated for Most Promising Actor at the 2013 César Awards, Kacey Klein’s natural performance is one of remarkable depth and understanding. He does not emote or think the role, he lives in it and we are drawn into his life and experience his loneliness as our own. Also remarkable is Lea Seydoux who brings the irresponsible but ultimately sympathetic Louise to life.

Based on Meier’s memories of growing up near a ski resort near Geneva, Switzerland and her recollection of a little boy who was known as a thief, Sister is a devastating look at the result when an unwanted child is brought into the world. We discover how truly alone Simon is in scenes where he has to pay Louise to give him a hug, and when his neediness pushes him to cling to the mother of two boys (Gillian Anderson) who buys him lunch at the resort. If, as Victor Hugo said, “Life’s greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved,” Meier makes it evident that growing up in a world without love, even the most skillful and resilient child cannot fill the gaping hole it leaves.