Chappell Roan at the last minute has canceled her All Things Go festival shows scheduled for this weekend in New York City and Washington, citing her mental health.

“I apologize to people who have been waiting to see me in NYC & DC this weekend at All Things Go, but I am unable to perform,” the “Pink Pony Club” singer wrote Friday on her Instagram story. “Things have gotten overwhelming over the past few weeks and I am really feeling it.

“I feel pressures to prioritize a lot of things right now and I need a few days to prioritize my health. I want to be present when I perform and give the best shows possible. Thank you for understanding,” she wrote. “Be back soon xox.”

Representatives for Roan and the festival did not respond immediately Friday to The Times’ requests for comment.

While most social media commenters were wishing the 26-year-old well and hoping she was in good health, others were clear in their disappointment.

“not us finding out Chappell Roan canceled her All Things Go NYC appearance while already on the plane to NYC,” one TikTok read, ranking it among the “top 10 worst anime betrayals.”

Another person who said she bought tickets to the festival just to see Roan said she was disappointed but not angry at the singer for canceling.

“Think about how depressing it would be to watch her be up there on stage and not be having fun,” she said. “Part of the reason I love her so much is because I love watching her have fun on stage.”

Roan catapulted to Gen Z fame last year with her “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess” album and its accompanying tour. The recording chronicled her journey in, out of and through L.A. since 2018 as she tried to make it in the music industry.

But Roan has taken to TikTok more recently to speak to fans directly about what she characterizes as abuse and harassment toward celebrities from fans. She clarified her comments about fans’ “creepy behavior.”

“I do not agree with the notion that I owe a mutual exchange of energy, time, or attention to people I do not know, do not trust, or who creep me out — just because they’re expressing admiration. Women do not owe you a reason why they don’t want to be touched or talked to,” she said.

Roan also faced backlash after she said she wouldn’t endorse a political candidate in an interview published last week by the Guardian.

“I have so many issues with our government in every way. There are so many things I would want to change,” she said. “There’s problems on both sides. I encourage people to use your critical thinking skills.”

After the “both sides” quote went viral, with internet users accusing her of riding the line between parties and being afraid to take a side, Roan said in a TikTok that she had been taken out of context.

Her words were not seen with the nuance she intended, she said. She encouraged her viewers to vote but to remain skeptical of authority figures and the government. In another video, she said she planned to vote for Vice President Kamala Harris.

“Actions speak louder than words, and I’m not gonna let this narrative of me playing both sides — no no no, this is not me playing both sides,” she said. “This is me questioning both sides.”

A number of unanswered questions plague “Devara: Part 1,” the fine, but familiar Telugu-language Indian action drama and star vehicle for “RRR” co-lead N.T. Rama Rao Jr. For starters, does this nautical-themed melodrama need to be the first part of a series, and will the heavily foregrounded promise of a sequel leave anyone but NTR’s fans wanting more? It’s hard to know in either case, and not because “Devara: Part 1” doesn’t provide sufficient answers.

First, some good news. Writer/director Kortala Siva (“Acharya”) succeeds at making his ensemble cast, including Saif Ali Khan and Janhvi Kapoor, look great, especially during meme-ready action scenes and dance numbers. The movie’s plot also unfolds at such a deliberate pace that it’s hard to argue that the movie’s either too slow or too predictable to warrant its 176-minute runtime. Which brings me to the bad news.

Too often, the familiar and unchallenging nature of “Devara: Part 1”’s stock tropes and twists hold the movie back from unqualified success. Variations on established themes aren’t necessarily the worst things in the world, but it does get frustrating when you’re watching a giant-sized pirate drama that so regularly swings from perfunctory to rewarding gestures and usually within the same scene.

It’s easy to forget and doesn’t ultimately matter, but most of “Devara: Part 1” is presented as a dramatized cautionary tale for a group of hapless Bombay cops who, in 1996, try to hustle their way into a community of butch seamen. Local storyteller Singappa (Prakash Raj) eulogizes Devara (Rao) and later his son Vara (also Rao), both of whom lead a divided group of villagers near the Ratnagiri mountains. For a while, piracy serves as the community’s main source of income, as we see in an over-inflated but fitfully rousing opening scene where Rao launches out of the water in slow-motion like he’s the second coming of Esther Williams. Eventually, Devara changes his mind about piracy after learning more about the guns he and his crew smuggle for shifty middleman Muruga (Murali Sharma).

Tensions periodically flair between Devara, a selfless leader who can also fight and dance, and Bhaira (Khan), his generically contrary rival. They fight to a standstill during an annual weapons ritual, where four burly men duke it out to decide which of their four villages will control a cache of weapons. Even this establishing brawl takes a spell to catch fire, but it does once Devara and Bhair tie their wrists together and take turns bashing each other into various hard surfaces.

This and a few more conventional pleasures make the first half of “Devara: Part 1” a pleasant enough sit. The plot moseys more than it charges forward, and the movie only arrives at a dramatic precipice before its pre-intermission break. At this point, the drama stops being about Devara and Bhaira’s rivalry and starts concerning Vara, now an adult and the uneasy bearer of his father’s legacy. This back half of the movie occasionally capitalizes on its initial promise, especially whenever the relatively timid Vara tries to fill his dad’s mega-sized shoes. That struggle sets up a rather obvious twist, which then corkscrews into a more novel twist, ultimately laying the groundwork for the implicitly promised sequel. Sure, sure, but why aren’t there more fight scenes in the water? Couldn’t there have been punchier dialogue, and maybe some more dancing and less exposition?

These burning questions threaten to eclipse the most charming parts of “Devara: Part 1,” particularly supporting performances from diligent character actors like Sharma and Srikanth, as well as Kapoor’s scene-stealing turn as Thangam, Vara’s flirtatious love interest. A packed matinee screening in Times Square took a bathroom break during Thangam’s prescribed solo dance number; they missed the movie’s best musical number. My audience did not, however, forget to roar with applause whenever Rao performed a heroic flex or danced along to songs that they’d already committed to memory. Rao’s emotional range still isn’t vast, but he does unleash a devastating charm offensive whenever he fights (with great posture) or dances (with disarming exuberance). A few set pieces also feature a couple of stand-out images and effects, but only a few have enough momentum and flair to sustain their entire length.

So how badly do we need a “Devara: Part 2”? Siva rarely challenges his charming ensemble cast to step outside of their comfort zones, but he and his collaborators still deliver a lot of what you might want from an action-musical about a pack of murderous, but righteous pirates. A sequel could be a thrilling improvement on what this middling tentpole riser sets up. It could also sink beneath the heavy weight of viewers’ otherwise reasonable expectations.

As Ray Yeung’s “All Shall Be Well” opens, the gently moving camera both observes the affectionate routines of a Hong Kong lesbian couple in their 60s, Angie (Patra Au Ga Man) and Pat (Maggie Li Lin Lin), at the same time it seems to be caressing their life of four decades together like a precious fabric. They walk in the woods, enjoy time with their community of friends, shop the farmers market arm in arm and host big joyful meals with Pat’s extended clan, to whom they’re more than just out. “Aunty” Angie couldn’t be closer to the grown kids of Pat’s brother, Shing (Tai Bo), and his wife, Mei (Hui So Ying): She helped raise them when times for that family were tough.

There’s a big difference, though, between being family and, in the wake of a loss, remaining family. When Pat dies suddenly, a bereft Angie finds herself in a situation that puts her at odds with Shing’s family, whose handling of their grief begins to look a lot like callous discrimination. With patience and emotional intelligence, writer-director Yeung, whose handful of features (“Suk Suk,” “Front Cover”) shine a light on gay lives in Hong Kong, explores another quietly wrenching story of the types of battles for respect and acceptance that gay couples go through.

If one needs a practical takeaway from this ache of a movie, it’s this: Make things official. Almost immediately, there’s a disagreement over a burial that Angie has no legal standing over because she and Pat never married. Mei and Shing casually dismiss Angie’s insistence that Pat wanted to have her ashes scattered at sea, instead heeding the advice of their fortuneteller, arranging for a traditional ritual and internment in a columbarium. The heartbreaking rictus of hurt on Angie’s fallen face at the ceremony, only one of many across Patra’s moving performance, says it all: a combination of disillusionment at the separation she’s feeling from a family she thought she knew and shame for not being able to honor the wishes of her loved one.

Things worsen when Angie learns Pat didn’t make a will, sparking an estate battle for the apartment that was in Pat’s name, which could evict Angie from the home she and her life partner made. Complicating the scenario is the financial hardship of Mei’s and Shing’s family: Their son Victor (Leung Chung Hang) wants to start a family with his girlfriend, while daughter Fanny (an excellent Fish Liew Chi Yu), aggrieved by circumstance, wants something bigger than the cramped space she shares with her two kids and a husband she barely tolerates. That neither of the kids’ romantic relationships (much less their parents’) are as strong as their Aunty’s was with Pat makes the message being sent even colder, as if the economic gain from an oversight naturally trumps doing right by a lasting bond.

As “All Shall Be Well” unfolds, Yeung lets on that he has no use for broad villain strokes, with the performances of Tai Bo and Hui — pinched and distracted — helping establish the sad reality that grief mixed with need doesn’t always concede space for people to feel charitable. The narrative is just understated enough to also let us see that Angie isn’t only fighting people she’s known intimately for years, but an unequal society that allows the increasingly impossible dream of homeownership to come between loved ones.

Angie goes through a lot and with an admirable reserve of strength (you’ll never feel happier that a character has such great friends), but the worst part is how the whole experience leads her to question the very thing that she should be leaning on most: where Pat’s heart stood toward her. It’s a quietly shattering place “All Shall Be Well” goes to, in which a time of consoling devolves into petty matters of consolation.