Paul Schrader’s 2017 film First Reformed gave us a solitary man who is keeping a journal; who deals with an intense and intimate crisis before learning that the real enemy is larger, more powerful, and less personal; and who just might find salvation via a compassionate woman. Then, 2021’s The Card Counter gave us a solitary man who hides a violent past; who deals with an intense and intimate crisis before learning that the real enemy is larger, more powerful, and less personal; and who just might find salvation via a compassionate woman. And here? Here we have a solitary man who hides a violent past and is also keeping a journal. The pleasure is not in the innovation, but in the variation. This time, Joel Edgerton takes up the mask of composure and control, even as he lectures us about wild gardens that only appear to be wild, but still grow according to plan. That’s not the sort of garden he’s growing, however: his employer (Sigourney Weaver, imperious) likes things more regulated. She’s eager to discuss the upcoming charity event at her grand estate, but first there is the matter of her grand-niece (Quintessa Swindell, luminous), a young woman from a troubled background who needs a break. She’s of mixed racial heritage, but that’s not a problem for our gardener, despite what his severe haircut, black sweater, and knee-high boots might suggest. He’s more concerned with her drug use, and the unpleasant people from whom she gets them. The film is as careful and restrained and handsome as Edgerton’s character, and as rigidly structured as the garden he tends. But of course, that does not mean it is without feeling; plenty of blooms thrive on severity. Its only misstep may be its overly sweet portrait of a damaged addict — but then, it’s not the girl’s story. And while she may be our man’s salvation, she’s no vessel of cheap grace: their quiet confrontation in the dark is one of the most affecting scenes in recent memory. Schrader loathes violence, but he understands it, which is what makes the film’s concluding monologue — about a garden’s embodiment of what should be, a manipulation of nature achieved through subtle adjustment — so profoundly hopeful. (2022) — Matthew Lickona