Modern Man

Modern Man helpfully bills itself as an “abstract drama about the search for meaning,” but I’m not convinced about the “abstract” part—or the “meaning.” To be sure, the film is resolutely nonnarrative: An anonymous guy who never speaks (Becker) wanders the grounds of a deserted mansion, cleaning leaves out of the pool, squeegeeing the tennis court and dragging around garbage containers in an odd, expressionless ballet. This feels vaguely like Beckett territory, but despite its 27 parts—each announced by an onscreen title—Modern Man hits just one note. (Opens Fri; Village East.) — Tom Beer