SYNOPSIS: Six years after the events of “Deadpool 2” comes “Deadpool & Wolverine,” a new superhero movie starring Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman, and now playing in theatres.
Now working as a used car salesman, Wade Wilson (Reynolds) has retired his wisecracking mercenary Deadpool persona. His life is up-ended when the Time Variance Authority (TVA) enlists him to undertake a new mission with another reluctant superhero Wolverine (Jackman).
“Wade, you are special,” says TVA agent Mr. Paradox (Macfadyen). “This is your chance to be a hero among heroes.”
CAST: Ryan Reynolds, Hugh Jackman, Rhett Reese, Emma Corrin, Matthew Macfadyen, Paul Wernick, Zeb Wells. Directed by Shawn Levy.
REVIEW: If the word bombastic took steroids it might come close to describing the R-rated “Deadpool & Wolverine.” Vulgar, gory with a “whiff of necrophilia” and irreverence to burn, it’s a showcase for the bromance stylings of its stars, who pull out all the stops to lovingly put a cap on Fox’s Marvel movies. “Disney bought Fox,” Deadpool explains, “[so there’s] that whole boring rights issue.”
At the film’s start, it takes some doing to explain Wolverine/Logan’s return from the dead—“Nothing will bring you back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash,” Deadpool says to Wolverine’s remains.—but once that convoluted (but action-packed) set-up is out of the way, the film barrels through plot with both fists flailing.
Before, during and after the big, bloody action sequences the movie cheekily blurs the line between on-screen and off-screen life. Deadpool obnoxiously calls Logan “Hugh,” and even takes a jab at jackman’s recent divorce. Later he leeringly mentions “Gossip Girl,” the show that made Reynolds’s wife, Blake Lively, famous.
That fourth-wall-breaking riffing suits Reynolds’s trademark delivery, and sets the self-aware “Deadpool” movies apart from other superhero films. ““Fox killed him,” Deadpool says of Wolverine. “Disney brought him back. They’re gonna make him do this till he’s 90!”
Humor has a place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), in Tony Stark’s one-liners, in Taika Waititi era “Thor” movies and “Guardians of the Galaxy” to name a handful of examples, but none of those subversively poke fun at superhero movies and themselves in the way “Deadpool & Wolverine” does. What other MCU movie would self-deprecatingly admit that the characters are entering the multiverse “at a bit of a low point”?
Jackman mostly plays it straight, acting as a soundboard for “the Merc with the Mouth’s” one liners. Filled with regret over past events, the self-loathing Wolverine is a hard drinking mutant, in full comic book costume, who reluctantly embraces heroism.
Wolverine provides the story’s heart as a counterpoint to Deadpool’s constant quipping.
Both characters may be physically indestructible, but their psyches aren’t. Both are tortured, and when the movie isn’t gushing blood or cracking wise, it’s about lost souls and their search for redemption. That story chord is a grace note that often gets lost amid the film’s cacophonic action, but is a welcome relief from the constant clatter.
A love letter to the now by-gone Fox era of superhero films, “Deadpool & Wolverine” ushers in a new epoch overstuffed with overkill, cameos, Easter eggs, juvenile humour and a villain who reads minds by thrusting their fingers into their victim’s heads. It’s fun fan service, and a good time at the movies, even if the experience of watching it sometimes feels like being on the inside of a blender set to puree.
SYNOPSIS: Until a guy got in the way, college friends Lou (Susan Sarandon), Marilyn (Bette Midler), Alice (Megan Mullally) and Kitty (Sheryl Lee Ralph) were inseparable, but when Marilyn scooped up one of Lou’s crushes, they stopped talking. Fifty years later, as Marilyn prepares to remarry in Key West, Alice and Kitty trick Lou into coming to the wedding. “We need to get the gang back together before we’re 500,” says Alice. But can the joys of sisterhood and a new marriage smooth over the hurt of a betrayal that dates back decades?
CAST: Susan Sarandon, Bette Midler, Megan Mullally, Sheryl Lee Ralph, Bruce Greenwood, Timothy V. Murphy, Michael Bolton. Directed by Jocelyn Moorhouse.
REVIEW: The stars of “The Fabulous Four” have earned a great deal of audience goodwill over the years. Between them, they have Oscars, Emmys, Grammys and who knows what else. But “The Fabulous Four” is the kind of excruciating experience that burns that goodwill into ashes.
Hackneyed and beyond predictable, “The Fabulous Four” aims to be a feel-good movie about friendship and the everlasting power of sisterhood but, is instead, a charmless exercise in cliché.
The Fab Four above-the-title-stars do what they can with the material, but no amount of goodwill or years of experience can breathe life into mom jokes like, “We’re the bridesmaids…” “You mean old maids,” the lame physical humor or the strangely lifeless Michael Bolton performance.
“The Fabulous Four” means well but is a less than fabulous film that doesn’t deliver the goods.
The only thing worse than someone who says, “I had the craziest dream last night,” and then tells you all about it is… well, hardly anything. There are few things worse than suffering through a disjointed story that barely makes sense to the teller and absolutely no sense to you.
But, just imagine if everyone, family, friends, strangers, told you about their dreams, because you were in them. Every single one of them. That’s the nightmarish idea behind “Dream Scenario,” a new “Twilight Zonesque” Nicolas Cage social satire, now playing in theatres.
Cage plays humdrum evolutionary biology professor Paul Matthews. He’s an unexceptional, almost invisible man, mocked by his students and colleagues at work and a sad sack at home with possessive wife Janet (Julianne Nicholson) and two teen daughters.
His unremarkable life is made noteworthy when inexplicably, he begins to appear in the dreams of millions of people.
He’s viral all over the world, except, tellingly, in the nighttime visions of his wife. Why not? “Because you get the real deal,” he says to her. “It wouldn’t be fair to get both.”
“Why me?” he asks. “I don’t know. I’m special I guess.”
Trouble is, he doesn’t do anything special in the dreams. He mostly just appears in the background, watching unresponsively as strange things happen to the dreamer. “He occupies the space like an awkward guest at a party,” says one dreamer.
As his fame grows, it brings with it some unexpected repercussions for the unassuming Paul. “You know,” says Sidney (Marc Coppola), “fame can come with some less desirable side effects. You should be prepared for that.” At first, he almost enjoys the intense glare of the spotlight, but when his presence in the dreams goes from passive to active, and he becomes as repugnant to the public as he was once popular.
“Dream Scenario” does feature some surreal dream sequences, but it’s not really about dreams. It’s about life as a modern, viral celebrity, on display in the unblinking eye of the public, social media and cancel culture.
Cage plays Paul as a man who claims to love his anonymity, but fights a former colleague for credit when she alludes to one of his thirty-year-old theories in an academic paper, and, when fame comes, he’ll pose with anyone who wants a selfie. He’s tired of being invisible, but wants fame on his own terms. But, as the movie ably points out, fame is a three-headed hydra, untamable and uncontrollable.
It’s a perfect role for Cage’s sensibility. As Paul’s life switches from dreamlike to nightmarish, Cage embraces the tragicomic elements of the role—a man who can’t live up to expectations in real life or dream life—and pulls off a great trick by making a forgettable man memorable.
“Dream Scenario” is a clever, timely film that details everything from mid-life crisis and cancel culture to viral fame and social media marketing in a bizarre, funny and thought-provoking way.
Almost forty years after Chevy Chase portrayed the smarty-pants investigative reporter Irwin M. Fletcher, aka Fletch, on the big screen, the character is back in action. The gum shoe, who, ironically, doesn’t like to wear shoes, is now played by John Hamm in “Confess, Fletch,” a murder mystery now playing in theatres and on VOD, that aims to reboot the franchise.
Based on Gregory Mcdonald’s 1976 book of the same name but set in the present day, the story begins as Fletch, who now lives in Italy with his wealthy girlfriend Angela (Lorenza Izzo), visits Boston to track down stolen paintings worth millions of dollars. On his first night in town, he returns to his swanky rented townhouse to find a dead woman in the living room.
He calls it in and immediately becomes a suspect, but being his usual unflappable self, he cracks a few jokes, and continues his search for the art, while also trying to clear his name. Complicating his investigation are the slow-and-steady-wins-the-race Detective Monroe (Roy Wood Jr.), germophobe art dealer Horan (Kyle MacLachlan) and a randy Countess (Marcia Gay Harden) who pronounces Fletch’s name as “Flesh.”
This is not your father’s cinematic “Fletch.” Gone are Chevy Chase’s disguises, slapstick and doubletakes. They’ve been replaced with a more sardonic, dead pan, smart-alecky delivery that more closely resembles the tone of Mcdonald’s popular novels. In the back of a police car, for instance, murder suspect Fletch asks if they could go on a coffee run. “I’d kill for a macchiato,” he says, “not literally!” That is the movie’s mood; it’s a flippant crime story that could have used a splash or two of Chase’s heightened irreverence.
Hamm’s slick performance feels like neither fish nor fowl. His, “I have a line for everything,” glibness wears thin early on. The film does have some funny moments—a conversation with a designer about the meaning of the word “bespoke” is laugh out loud—and it is a hoot to see Hamm and his old “Mad Men” co-star John Slattery, who plays a Boston newspaper editor, together again in their foul-mouthed and funny scenes, but Hamm doesn’t register as either serious or comedic. It is a bland performance from an award-winning dramatic actor and one whose comedic work on “30 Rock” was raucous and really funny.
Part of it is the script. “We obtained surveillance footage from a store around the corner,” says Slo-mo Monroe. “Where the fudge is made?” is Fletch’s comeback.
And part of it is the TV-movie-of-the-week feel. The murder mystery is less important than the characters, who are very broadly sketched, and that leaves the film stuck somewhere between first and second gear.
The term mockumentary has become synonymous with Christopher Guest’s work, a mix-and-match of documentary style and satirical fiction. Movies like “Spinal Tap” and “Best in Show” poked fun at the excesses of rick n’ roll and the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show respectively.
“Honk for Jesus, Save Your Soul,” a new film starring Regina Hall and Sterling K. Brown, and now playing in theatres, amps up the mock in mockumentary, to present a satirical take on Southern Baptist megachurch values.
Brown and Hall are former power couple Lee-Curtis and Trinitie Childs, pastor and “first lady” of the Wander To Greater Paths church. Once a powerhouse, with a congregation in the thousands, the church was temporarily shuttered in the aftermath of a sex scandal involving the narcissistic Lee-Curtis. “I’m not a perfect man ladies and gentlemen,” he preaches. “God doesn’t make perfect men. What I am is a servant of the Lord. Folks being the Lord’s servant doesn’t mean that you are not susceptible to being lured or seduced or being ambushed by the devil.”
In an effort to rebuild their congregation’s confidence, they set out with a plan to reopen the church and earn back trust, and the big bankroll that provided their lavish lifestyle. “We need to connect to people and make them see why they need you back in the pulpit,” says Trinitie.
There are some very funny moments in writer-director Adamma Ebo’s “Honk for Jesus, Save Your Soul,” ably performed by Brown and Hall, but it is the dramatic sections that this mockumentary soars. For proof of this movie’s ability to surprise, see Hall reclaim her power in a gut-wrenching monologue, while wearing mime make-up. It’s remarkable work that blurs the line between the ridiculous and the sublime.
Emmy-winner Brown is equal parts charisma and egomania. His love of fine Italian hand-crafted shoes, helicopters and the finer things seems ripped from the megachurch playbook, but it is his power that impresses. Brown brings the juice, preaching to the choir with an authority that is both divine and extravagant.
Together their collective passion for piousness and material items may put you in the mind of Jim and Tammy Faye Baker, but Lee-Curtis and Trinitie lean heavily into the tragicomedy their real-life counterparts somehow managed to avoid.
“Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul” doesn’t hold back in its savage satire, but it is in the character work by Brown and Hall, that cuts the deepest.
The new film “The Middle Man,” a new dark comedy now playing in theatres, is the story of Frank (Pål Sverre Hagen), an unemployed man who takes a job in the accident capital of America.
The setting is Karmac in Any Midwest State, USA. Terrible things happen on an almost daily basis. It’s so grim there the flags at City Hall are permanently at half-mast. The only growth industry in town is accident clean-up, the crew that comes in to tidy up after bad things happen.
The city is going broke, pretty soon they won’t be able to turn on the streetlights, which, says the local doctor (Don McKellar), will lead to even more mishaps, so they need to hire a Middle Man, someone to deliver bad news to the families of the bereaved.
Frank, out of work for three years, applies, even though his only qualifications are a hangdog demeanor and telling his mother that his father fell off a ladder, hit his head and died.
He gets the gig, learns the ropes—”Crying is a privilege that belongs to the next of kin,” says the sheriff (Paul Gross), “not the middle man.”—and forms a bond with receptionist Blenda (Tuva Novotny). When Bob (Trond Fausa Aurvåg), Brenda’s ex-boyfriend and failed Middle Man candidate, strikes and kills Frank’s best friend, it sets into motion of events that causes an overwhelmed Frank to wonder if his new position is right for him or not. “It’s a busy job,” he says, “accidents don’t keep office hours.”
Norwegian director Bent Hamer, who also wrote the script based on a novel by Norwegian-Danish writer Lars Saabye Christensen, may have set the story in the Midwest, but his dark, deadpan humour is purely Scandinavian. This semi-comedic study of loss and grief, is macabre in tone but maintains a quirky, if bleak, sense of itself. Dialing up the farcical aspects of the story may have increased the film’s commercial appeal but may have chipped away at Hamer’s thoughtful consideration of life in a small, unusual town.
“The Middle Man” won’t be for everyone, but viewers with a taste for unconventional but restrained absurdism will find much to enjoy.
“I Used to Go Here,” a new film on VOD starring Gillian Jacobs, challenges the wisdom of the famous Thomas Wolfe title, “You Can’t Go Home Again.”
With her upcoming book promo tour cancelled due to poor sales and still feeling the sting of a recent break up, Kate Conklin (Jacobs) is at a low ebb in her life. Her spirits are lifted when her favorite creative writing professor David (Jemaine Clement) reaches out with an invite to do a reading at her alma mater. She hasn’t been to Carbondale, Illinois in fifteen years but she hopes a trip down memory lane might be the tonic she needs.
In town memories come flooding back. The only change at her old frat house, nicknamed the Writer’s Retreat, are the faces on the students. It is otherwise frozen in time. Even the glow-in-the-dark stars she glued to her bedroom ceiling are still in place. David, her one-time mentor, is still an encouraging voice and an old friend with the unlikely name of Bradley Cooper (Jorma Taccone) still works at the campus bookstore.
But it’s not all déjà vu. Hanging out with some of the new students Kate has a rebirth. Given the time to reflect on the recent downturns in her life she is transported back to her school years, a time when risks were taken and the future seemed ripe with possibilities.
“I Used to Go Here” avoids the clichés of many other college comedies. A professor-student subplot isn’t played for its salacious value but as a comment on #MeToo’s power structure, and there is a bittersweet quality to much of the humour.
Jacobs is the above-the-title star here. She’s very good, providing the movie’s heart while painting Kate as someone who has lost her way on the path to recovery, but this is an ensemble piece filled with nice supporting performances.
Clement brings a rumpled charm as a professor who chose the security of academia over the real world of writing for a living. As Kate’s student guide Elliot, Rammel Chan is a welcome comedic presence and the group of college kids Kate befriends, played by Forrest Goodluck, Brandon Daley and Khloe Janel, are affable, compassionate and real. Of the younger actors it’s Josh Wiggins as Hugo, the empathetic wannabe writer who makes the biggest impression. His observation that, “Just because a connection with a person doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it’s not real,” could have sounded ripped from the pages of a Nicholas Sparks novel but is delivered with a sincerity that transforms it into an insightful comment on the weight that is keeping Kate down.
Writer/director Kris Rey clearly relishes spending time with “I Used to Go Here’s” characters and gives each of them a clear-cut role in moving the story, and Kate’s life, forward. It makes for an engaging set piece, specific to its setting but universal in its outlook.
When we first meet twenty-eight-year-old Brittany (Jillian Bell) she’s at a low point in her life. Broke and unhappy, she drinks away her morning hangovers and is so unreliable an animal kill shelter rejects her adoption request because they don’t feel she can give the dog the future it deserves.
When her doctor (Patch Darragh) tells her she has a high BMI, placing her firmly in the obese category, she wisecracks, “I feel you completely missed the point of those Dove commercials,” but the news has an effect.
Feeling crappy, an influenced by her upstairs neighbour Catherine (Michaela Watkins) she decides to make some dramatic life changes. “I’m starting to feel like everyone’s life is going somewhere and mine isn’t,” she says.
Step one is exercise. She tries to sign up at a local gym but can’t afford the monthly fee. “I see under your fitness goals you have drawn a frowny face,” says her recruiter (Mikey Day). Instead she takes tentative steps that turn into a run through the streets around her walk-up apartment. With the help of new running friends Catherine, who is changing her life post-divorce and Seth, and Seth (Micah Stock) a novice athlete who wants to run the 26.2-mile New York Marathon to prove to his son it can be done. Together they train with the mantra, “We don’t have to win,” they say, “we just have to finish.”
She’s taking back her life, one block at a time but weeks before the big run Brittany is sidelined, forcing her to examine the deeper reasons she needed to change her life and begin to focus on the things she can control.
There’s a quick shot of Rocky Balboa, another great underdog who transformed through sheer will, in the film’s Philadelphia section. The comparison is apt. Both movies are underdog tales that transcend the sports on display. On the surface “Rocky” is about boxing, just as “Brittany Runs a Marathon” is about running but both have larger themes that examine dissatisfaction, respect, ambition and family. These universal themes, coupled with winning performances from the cast, particularly Bell and Utkarsh Ambudkar as Brittany’s sorta-kinda boyfriend Jern, and big laughs make “Brittany Runs a Marathon” more than an inspirational sports film. It digs deep and the story packs an unexpected emotional punch as it uplifts.
Raunchy yet innocent. Naïve but course. Whichever you want to say it “Good Boys” is a “Superbad” riff on one of life’s rites of passage. Starring Jacob Tremblay, Keith L. Williams and Brady Noon, none of whom are old enough to buy a ticket to see their own movie, it’s an R-rated but sweet film that has more going for it than the novelty of foul-mouthed preteens.
It all begins with a kiss. Or at last the promise of a kiss. Sixth-grader Max (Tremblay) has been invited to his first kissing party, where he has plan to plant one on his crush Brixlee (Millie Davis). “Tonight is our first middle school party. There’s going to be girls there. You know what that means?”
Trouble is, he’s never actually spoken to her or kissed a girl. His pals Lucas (Williams) and Thor (Noon), the Beanbag Boys, can’t offer any practical advice in that regard but are game to help their friend get some smooching experience. “We need to see real people kissing. That’s the only way we’ll learn what we’re doing!”
Googling porn doesn’t illuminate anything. “They didn’t even kiss!” “Not on the mouth, anyway!” They use Max’s dad’s (Will Forte) drone to try and spy on the girls next door (Midori Frances and Molly Gordon) but they catch on before the boys learn anything useful. Desperate for information the hormonal hombres hit the road—literally, dodging traffic on a bustling six lane highway—that sees them encounter a sex doll they assume is a CPR practice dummy, vitamins that are actually MDMD and a frat house filled with bros. “You let us run around with drugs, fight with frat guys, and lock a cop in a convenient store with what I now suspect is a d*ldo,” Lucas says to Max.
“Good Boys” is best summed up by its rough ‘n ready Red Band trailer. The kids swear, a lot—Art Linklater would be shocked by the potty mouths on these darned kids—and find themselves in adult situations that often veer over into slapstick, and yet, there’s a real sweetness to the proceedings. They are at that very specific time in life between childhood and adolescence, just on the cusp of not wanting to put away childish things but speeding toward a hormonal future they don’t quite yet understand. That leads to very funny misunderstandings and an escalating series of events.
At its raunchy little heart, however, “Good Boys” is about growing up and growing apart. The Beanbag Boys may think they’ll be friends forever, but as the girls next door explain, they’re probably really only friends because they live close together, have parents who are friends and are in the same class. It’s a bittersweet realization in a movie that succeeds because of the chemistry between the three leads.
