It’s often inspired in its cutting and composition, and Garland (Ex Machina) has crafted sequences of strange splendor, including a too-short cosmic light show.

Much like “Ant-Man,” it’s a kind of pressure-relief valve, coasting on Paul Rudd’s goofy charm. That’s more on display than in the first film; returning director Peyton Reed manages not to shrink Rudd’s appeal when he shrinks his character.

If Eternity is hardly a completist portrait, or even a narratively satisfying one, really, it’s still gratifying to watch in other ways. Not just for the pureness of Dafoe’s performance but for the way it lets art be both celebrated and unexplained, still as much a mysteries as the man who made it.

Where you end up may not be where you thought this was going. The final act, including the post-credits sting (to infinity and beyond, as it were) brings a chill, a darkness and a hush that represent something new in this universe.

Babylon Berlin is actually quite good history in its depiction of a society increasingly squeezed between leftism and rightism until the centre, the place of normalcy and decency, burst like a balloon.

It’s great to look at, nearly giddy with pop-culture love, and its particulars are intriguing. But those pieces – by turns weird, soulful and exhilarating – merely accumulate, when they should be generating magic.