Marxish

THE YOUNG KARL MARX (B) - This serviceable biopic is buoyed by fine performances form under-the-radar actors August Diehl and Stefan Konarske as Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels, respectively, as they toil away on their revolutionary rejection of capitalism. The story is told with confidence by Raoul Peck, the man behind the political documentaries "Lumumba" and "I Am Not Your Negro."

The first half of the 19th century is depicted as a swirl of industrial sweat and high-brow philosophizing. Engels chafes at following in the capitalist footsteps of his factory-owning father, and he uses his relative wealth to help subsidize the struggling Marx, who has a family to support. After a slow start, a hum develops in the narrative, and Peck treats us to an old-fashioned hero's journey. Diehl is especially appealing, with his facility across multiple languages and his Che Guevera scruffiness. (Before he was the iconic white-bearded father of communism, Marx apparently cut a rebellious figure.) Hannah Steele is equally appealing as the perky working-class Mary Engels, plucked from the factory floor. The result has an eat-your-vegetables "Masterpiece Theater" efficiency to it.

KARL MARX CITY (B-minus) - Petra Epperlein and her perpetually knitted eyebrows digs diligently to expose the ways of the East Germany Stasi (secret police) as she tries to unravel the mystery of her father's suicide in the late '90s? Was he a collaborator? A victim?

Epperlein soberly traipses through Karl Marx City (since rechristened Chemnitz, though the huge bust of Marx remains on prominent display because it was too heavy to move), and spends a lot of times in the Stasi archives. She brandishes a large boom microphone everywhere she goes, as if it is a weapon or a shield to keep her safe. She interviews her mother and brothers; a onetime collaborator; and a few experts (one of whom unfairly questions the accuracy the beloved feature film "The Lives of Others"). Throughout she seems fearful of what she'll find out about her father.

She also skillfully mixes in oodles of archival footage from surveillance tapes, though at some point it becomes unclear what is real and what is re-enacted (we blame Sarah Polley for the phenomenon). The mood is somber and soulful, but the whole exercise can feel empty and untimely.