Charlie Kaufman’s peculiarly inviting psychodrama “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” feels so enclosed that you could almost swear it was set inside a snow globe. With one gentle shake, gaudy conversations on vast existential notions shower its cozy, wintery mood one minute, only to somehow thin out and ephemerally disappear the next before you could luxuriate in their gloomy mystery. Sites trapped inside the film’s (redundant) boxed ratio look equally snug yet restricted —a blizzard-stricken, nighttime road-trip in the North East (during which a sizable portion of the movie takes place) feels curiously immobile here. Not to mention the sense of claustrophobia exuded by the film’s other major location, a handsomely sized, multi-story farm house looking as generically quaint as your average country Bed & Breakfast.