Based on the novel by Marieke van der Pol, Dutch import Bride Flight is emblematic of the particular sort of heritage cinema that is from the outside and at first glance stuffy and a bit boring but, if one gives it time and an open heart and mind, eventually blossoms due to the strength of its characterizations.

Directed by Ben Sombogaart (Twin Sisters) and based on true events, the film opens in the present day at a funeral and then flashes back to 1953, as a plane full of (mostly betrothed) women escape post-World War II Holland by emigrating to New Zealand for what they hope will be better lives. Marjorie (Elise Schaap), Ada (Karina Smulders, above) and Esther (Anna Drijver) strike up a conversation with the rakishly handsome Frank (Waldemar Torenstra), an agricultural college graduate looking to make his way with his own farm and tempted by the chance at cheap land. Frank represents a certain temptation for each of the women, but upon landing they meet their respective fiances and set about with their lives, to varying degrees of happiness. A casual fling between Frank and one of the ladies yields a pregnancy, while another grapples with the possibility of infertility. Secret pacts are then struck, which have far-reaching consequences throughout the rest of the years that members of the quartet remain in touch.

Once the element of progeny is introduced, Bride Flight charts a fairly predictable narrative course. But it’s made enjoyable through technical acumen and a clutch of strong performances. Torenstra has an appealing, square-jawed charisma that kind of favors Hugh Jackman by way of Simon Baker. He radiates decency, which is integral to an audience’s embrace of Frank, since he behaves not as a cad, per se, but just a guy seemingly ill at ease with the consequence of any of his attachments. All of the female leads beautifully inhabit their characters, meanwhile — especially Smulders, who gives a nuanced and conflicted turn as Ada, torn later in life between a choice to remain with her children and the chance for a new life with Frank.

One assumes that the split structure owes to import from the novel, but Sombogaart does more than pay lip service to these flash-forwards to present day. He imbues them with a full-bodied emotional integrity that give the movie’s final act punch some force, no matter the fact that one can see it coming. The actors playing all the characters in their golden years are also superb (Rutger Hauer pops up as Frank), making Bride Flight a solid arthouse offering for fans of quality international drama. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. (Music Box, R, 130 minutes)

After being very publicly forced out of his dream job as host of The Tonight Show in order to make way for the return of Jay Leno (and his equally large contract and chin), Conan O’Brien was at a place most of us have been at some point in our lives — very angry, but in front of a large group of people, and unable to really express or address it. Of course, O’Brien was being paid millions of dollars not to say anything, as the final legal details of his buyout and exit were hammered out.

Still, trying to channel that debilitating rage into something more constructive was at the heart of O’Brien’s decision to launch his “Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television” live tour, which, starting of April last year, spanned 44 dates in 33 cities. His traveling show — part high-energy song-and-dance routine, part variety sketch show, all smiling exorcism — is lovingly chronicled in the ramshackle new travelogue Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop.

A bit of brief interview footage with O’Brien sets the stage, and we see him and his team discussing and concocting details of how to roll out the announcement for his show — even before they really know what it’s going to be. After that, however, the film mostly unfolds in a straightforward chronological fashion, rolling from city to city and bearing witness to the highs and lows of creating, honing and delivering a live show, while also pressing the flesh with fans at after-show events and figuring out what comes next in life.

Director Rodman Flender’s film is an admirably candid look at the sheer amount of work that is married to this sort of high-wire creativity, and in that respect the movie is, perhaps surprisingly, somewhat reminiscent of Michael Jackson’s This Is It. Regrettably, the film could use a bit more of a streamlined vision. Those early, direct chats with O’Brien that give an interesting glimpse into the gaping need for acceptance that drives so many of the most successful showbiz psyches unfortunately melt away. Flender doesn’t spend much time soliciting the opinions of the comedian’s peers and employees, which would complement the footage of O’Brien onstage and round out a professional portrait of the man.

Instead, Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop kind of morphs into the ultimate backstage video, which is surely not the worst thing in the world. Fans ply the tall, exceedingly friendly, once and future TV host with “masturbating panda” pizzas and an endless stream of photograph requests. He’s only human, though. O’Brien finally does lose it just a bit, and question the sanity of exhaustive pre-show and post-show meet-and-greets with everyone and their families. One day he’ll stop, maybe — just not yet. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. (Abramorama, unrated, 98 minutes)