Jimpa

The result is a film that’s not just incisive and compassionate, but fully attuned to the rhythms of this modern family.

Along with its genuine humor and a frank exploration of the different ways queer people live today, Jimpa is an emotional experience that feels authentic in a way that can be difficult to capture.

What keeps “Jimpa” from collapsing on itself is Colman’s steady turn (don’t forget, she’s so talented she was the only compelling aspect of Marvel Studios’ disastrous “Secret Invasion”) and Matthew Chuang’s wonderfully lush cinematography.

The men give Jimpa a warm, intergenerational quality, gesturing at the power of queer family over time. If only the film didn’t ask the audience to invest in so very many subplots; the clutter ends up sucking the air out of all of them.

Between an over-reliance on woozy indie filmmaking staples — from its soft lighting to its plodding, overly delicate score — and a central family dynamic that never feels legible, the end result is more irritating than enlightening.

Made with love and acted with great empathy by a cast led by always dependable pros Olivia Colman and John Lithgow, Jimpa is nothing if not sincere. But to be brutally honest, it’s also kind of a cringey bore, like being stuck in a room with a bunch of oversharers from queer studies class.

Jimpa’s exploration of non-binary identity ultimately proves superficial.