Thirty-three movies in, the interconnected Marvel Cinematic Universe offers up “The Marvels,” a new superhero flick now playing in theatres that acts as a follow-up to the 2019 film “Captain Marvel” and a continuation of the 2022 television series “Ms. Marvel.”
Brie Larson returns as Avenger and former U.S. Air Force fighter pilot Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers. After destroying the Supreme Intelligence, the AI that ruled the alien race known as the Kree, civil war erupted, leaving their planet Hala barren, with little air or water.
In an effort to rebuild her homeland and eke out revenge on Captain Marvel, Kree revolutionary warrior Dar-Benn (Zawe Ashton) obtains one of the powerful Quantum Bands, an ancient magical bangle that matches the one worn by Kamala Khan / Ms. Marvel (Iman Vellani).
When Dar-Benn uses the power of the Band to rip a hole in the fabric of space and time, S.A.B.E.R. bigwig Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) jumps into action.
“We are at war,” he says. “Captain Marvel, we need you to save the world.”
With S.A.B.E.R. astronaut Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) at her side, Captain Marvel sets off on her mission, only to discover that Dar-Benn has created an electromagnetic bond between her, Rambeau and Ms. Marvel, that causes them to switch places when they use their powers.
Imagine an interplanetary “Freaky Friday” and you’ll get the idea.
At 105 minutes, “The Marvels” is the shortest MCU film to date. In its brief running time (for a Marvel movie) it zips along at a pace ranging from frenetic to chaotic, mixing and matching heartfelt scenes of superhero bonding with slapstick comedy and large scale MCU style action scenes. The galloping pace keeps the eye busy, distracting from the film’s derivative story elements.
Also distracting, but in a good way, is Markham, Ontario’s Vellani as Ms. Marvel, starstruck Captain Marvel fan and aspiring superhero. Her wide-eyed naturalness amid the fantasy is nicely played to comedic effect. It’s a warm, big-hearted performance that stands out in a sea of kaleidoscopic CGI. Her relationships with her family, Captain Marvel and Rambeau are lovely, tethering this otherworldly movie firmly on planet earth.
“The Marvels” has a breezy, light tone and comedy that leans toward a younger audience. The chemistry between the three leads goes a long way to earn a recommendation, and who doesn’t like kittens with tentacle tongues? But the lackluster villain—Ashton is the kind of snarling world-ender we’ve seen a hundred times before—and disjointed, messy story, (even Nick Fury wonders aloud, “What the hell is going on here?”), renders the film underwhelming.
“Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” the new sci fi action comedy from director James Gunn, brings the hip needle drops, off-kilter humor and mismatched, misfit superheroes you expect, but adds in unexpectedly heart tugging sentiments about family, second chances and personal growth.
The action begins on a downbeat note. Rocket (Bradley Cooper), the smart mouthed genetically engineered racoon, is feeling down, wallowing in the maudlin sounds of Radiohead’s “Creep.”
Star-Lord, a.k.a. Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is using booze to grapple with the change in his girlfriend Gamora (Zoe Saldaña). She was killed by Thanos, but, courtesy of an alternate timeline, a version of her returned, but different, with no memory of her adventures with the Guardians or her love affair with Quill. “I’ll tell you something,” he says. “I’m Star-Lord. I formed the Guardians. Met a girl, fell in love, and that girl died. But then she came back. Came back a total d**k.”
Their world is given a shake and bake by caped supervillain Adam Warlock (Will Poulter). He is a powerful cosmic entity, with a third eye jewel embedded in his forehead, working with the man responsible for creating Rocket’s unique genetic makeup, a Dr. Moreau type known as the High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji). The ultimate plan is to kidnap and study Rocket to use the chatty racoon as the basis to sidestep the evolutionary process and create more hybrid species. “My sacred mission is to create the perfect society,” he says.
During the invasion, Rocket is severely injured, revealing to his co-Guardians—Star-Lord, Nebula (Karen Gillen), Mantis (Pom Klementieff) Drax (Dave Bautista), Groot (the voice of Vin Diesel) and Gamora—the extent of his genetic modifications.
As the racoon wavers between life and death, the film cleaves into two parts, Rocket’s origin story and the rescue mission to save his life. “Are you ready for one last ride?” asks Peter.
“Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3” succumbs to the usual superhero movie pitfalls. By the time the end credits roll, it has become a loud, slightly over-long orgy of CGI, but James Gunn brings something most other superhero movies don’t have.
Within the wham-bam action overload is a genuine sweetness that overrides the bombastic action. Under his watch the movies provide the expected wild ride while grounding the otherworldly action with poignant relationship drama. These movies are about logical, not necessarily biological, families, and that connection, above all else, is what makes these movies so effective.
If Gunn (and Bautista) can make a character named Drax the Destroyer loveable, then anything is possible.
In 2019’s “Shazam!,” teenager Billy Batson’s (Asher Angel) life took a metaphysical turn when an ancient wizard Djimon Hounsou), protector of the realms from the Seven Deadly Sins and keeper of the Rock of Eternity, plucked him from obscurity to transform into superhero Shazam, the adult champion of the world.
In the new film, “Shazam!: Fury of the Gods,” set two years after the events of the first movie, Billy still grapples with his superhero alter ego (Zachary Levi). “I’m an idiot,” he says. “I don’t deserve these powers, if I’m being honest. Like, what am I even contributing? There’s already a superhero with a red suit with a lightening bolt on it. Aquaman is literally huge, and he’s so manly. And Batman, he’s so cool. I feel like a fraud.”
This new adventure sees Batson, and his foster siblings, who also transform into superheroes by saying the magic word “Shazam!,” pitted against their most ferocious foe yet, the Daughters of Atlas.
“We are at war,” says Hespera (Helen Mirren). “We will annihilate everything. The champions of this realm can do nothing to stop us.”
The Daughters of Atlas want to strip the Shazam gang of their powers but as they do that the fate of the world hangs in the balance. “You are very menacing,” Shazam says to Hespera. “I just want you to know that.”
At its heart “Shazam!: Fury of the Gods” is a coming-of-age story. Billy begins the movie insecure, a victim of imposter syndrome. Unfortunately, as his confidence grows, so does the movie’s tendency to clutter up the screen with busy CGI, heaping helpings of mythology and not-so-subtle product placement. (They even manage to find a way to work in the Skittles “taste the rainbow” slogan.)
The best elements of the first film are present. The focus on family—finding your logical, if not biological family—the humour and Levy’s manchild performance as the title character, provide the film’s heart but the effort to make the sequel bigger-and-better overshadow the more organic, pleasing parts of the story.
It is a blast to see Helen Mirren channel her inner Shakespearean villain as Hespera, and some of the Ray Harryhausen-inspired creatures have a cool, “Famous Monsters of Filmland” retro appeal but, in general, when it comes to “Shazam!: Fury of the Gods,” bigger is not better.
Despite featuring the most Guns & Roses music this side of a headbanger’s ball, thematically, “Thor: Love and Thunder” owes more to the frilly pop of 10cc’s “The Things We Do for Love.” Love, not thunder, is at the very heart of this Taika Waititi directed take on the Marvel Space Viking.
The film opens with Gorr (Christian Bale), a simple man praying for the survival of his beloved daughter. His planet is barren. Life is unsustainable, but his blind faith in the gods and an “eternal reward” keeps him going. When things take a turn for the worse, his god rejects him, offering ridicule instead of help.
“Suffering for the gods is your only purpose.”
In that moment Gorr obtains the Necrosword, the legendary god slaying weapon, and vows to kill all gods, starting there and then. Now called Gorr the God Butcher, he travels through the shadows, seeking vengeance.
Meanwhile, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is in isolation. He has lost everyone he’s ever loved, including Jane Foster (Natalie Portman), an astrophysicist and ex-girlfriend. He has had some adventures and gone from “Dad Bod to God Bod, but underneath all that he was still Sad Bod.”
His midlife crisis has hit hard, and since Jane dumped him, he has kept everyone at arm’s length. He now lives a life of lonely, quiet contemplation, emerging only when needed for battle. “After thousands of years of living,” “Guardian of the Galaxy’s” Star-Lord (Chris Pratt) says to him, “you don’t seem to know who you are.”
Elsewhere, Jane is being treated for stage four cancer. Chemo treatments aren’t working so she takes matters into her own hands. “If science doesn’t work,” she says, “maybe Viking space magic will.” The result is a transformation into Mighty Thor, a warrior who wields a reconstructed version of Thor’s magic Asgardian hammer Mjolnir. “Excuse me,” Thor says to her. “That’s my hammer you have there. And my look.”
When Gorr the God Butcher and his creepy crawlers come to New Asgard, the Norwegian tourist town and refuge for the surviving Asgardians, and kidnap all the town’s children, it sets off a battle that will see Thor and sidekick Korg (Waititi) alongside Mighty Thor and Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson), travel to the Shadow Realm on a rescue mission.
“Thor: Love and Thunder” has all the usual Marvel moves. There are action set pieces writ large, loads of characters with complicated backstories and enough CGI to keep a rendering farm in business from now until eternity.
What it also has, and the thing that makes it feel fresh, is Taika Waititi. As director, writer and co-star, he infuses the proceedings with a certain kind of silliness, and panache that sets it apart from other Marvel Cinematic Universe movies.
The action scenes deliver in carnage but also provide some eye candy. An early fight has overtones of 1970s air bushed van art, while the choreography includes little jokes, like an homage to flexible kickboxer Jean-Claude Van Damme. Later, in the Shadow Realm, Waititi evokes German expressionism in his use of stark black-and-white to create a world of horror, while still maintaining a Marvel feel to the action.
With these large franchises, the action scenes are where the money is, I suppose, but above all else, “Thor: Love and Thunder” is a story about the power of love to hurt and heal. In the face of unimaginable losses—his daughter and his devotion to the gods—Gorr abandons love and embraces vengeance. Thor, still smarting from being dumped by Jane, learns the power of deep feelings when she suddenly shows up again.
Thor’s new weapon, Stormbreaker, might have the heft to do battle with Gorr the God Butcher, but it is love that wields the true power in this story.
“Thor: Love and Thunder” isn’t an all-out action-comedy like “Ragnarok.” It juggles several life-and-death scenarios, and much of the plot is rooted in heartache and pain, but Waititi’s singular style, Hemsworth’s charm and a heartfelt examination of the pain and pleasure of love is a winning combo.
At the beginning of “Spider-Man: No Way Home,” the new two-and-a-half-hour-long superhero movie now playing in theatres, Peter Parker (Tom Holland) learns it’s hard to be a masked crime fighter when everybody knows who you are under your red and black suit.
Exposed by supervillain Mysterio at the end of “Spider-Man: Far from Home,” Parker’s life has been turned upside down. And not in a fun way as in 2002’s “Spider-Man” when Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst shared an upside-down smooch in the rain.
That was harmless good fun.
These days, the friendly neighborhood web-slinger’s newfound notoriety makes it impossible for him to balance his personal life and relationships with girlfriend MJ (Zendaya), best pal Ned (Jacob Batalon) and Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) with his role as a world saving crime fighter.
“People looked up to this boy and called him a hero,” squawks J. Jonah Jameson (J. K. Simmons), the conspiratorial host of TheDailyBugle.net. “Well, I’ll tell you what I call him, Public Enemy Number One!”
Some think he’s a hero, others regard him as a vigilante. As his identities become blurred, Parker turns to becaped neurosurgeon and Master of the Mystic Arts, Dr. Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), for help.
“When Mysterio revealed my identity, my entire life got screwed up,” Parker says to Strange. “I was wondering if you could make it so it never did.”
Parker wants Dr. Strange to conjure up a spell to brainwash the world and make people forget he is Spider-Man.
It’s a big ask. “Be careful what you wish for,” Strange says, warning Parker that casting such a spell will tamper with the stability of space and time.
Sure enough, the spell blows a hole in the multiverse, the collection of parallel universes with alternate realities, and unleashes “universal trespassers,” the most terrifying foes Spider-Man has ever faced in this or any other realm.
There’s more. Lots more. Big emotional moments, lotsa jokes, nostalgia and fan service, an orgy of CGI and Villains! Villains! Villains! The multiverse offers up a multitude of surprises but there will be no spoilers here. Your eyeballs will dance and, depending on your level of fandom, maybe even well up from time to time.
The trippiness of the story’s inter dimensional leaps, while entertaining, are secondary to the movie’s strongest feature, Spider-Man’s empathy. “Spider-Man: No Way Home” is a movie about second chances. Peter Parker doesn’t want to simply vanquish his enemies, he wants to understand them, to know why they behave as they do. By the time the end credits roll, the baddies may not be able to wreak havoc anymore, but not for the reasons you might imagine.
In real life the world is divided by ideology and opinion. “Spider-Man: No Way Home” asks us to examine those differences, look for their roots and try and heal them. It does so with plenty of trademarked Marvel action and overstuffed bombast, but the core message of empathy and understanding for others is the engine that keeps the movie chugging forward.
“Spider-Man: No Way Home” is a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. It is inconsistent in its storytelling, overblown at times and the finale is a drawn-out CGI fest but when it focusses on the characters, empathy and the chemistry between the actors, it soars, like Spider-Man slinging webs and effortlessly zooming between skyscrapers.
“Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” the latest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe and now playing in theatres, is a rarity. It’s a superhero origin movie that doesn’t suck. They haven’t all been terrible, but I still feel the burn of “Fantastic Four,” “Green Hornet” and “Catwoman” whenever I hear the dreaded ‘origin story’ descriptor.
But “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” doesn’t suck. It is a stand-alone origin movie with some of the best action sequences seen in the MCU jurisdiction, a couple of Hong Kong screen legends in the form of Tony Leung and Michelle Yeoh and a winning performance from Simu Liu as the first Asian lead in Marvel’s superhero stable.
The story begins 1000 years ago with warlord Wenwu (Leung) taking possession of the mystical Ten Rings, each containing untold power. Now immortal and unbeatable, for the next millennium he amasses wealth and influence as his army secretly has a hand in controlling world events.
His evil ways come to a (temporary) halt when he meets Jiang Li (Fala Chen), a guardian of the mystic realm of Ta Lo. After a flirty battle, they fall in love. Wenwu puts the Ten Rings away as they welcome two kids, Shang-Chi and Xialing (Meng’er Zhang), to their happy family. But the salad days don’t last for long. When Jiang Li is murdered by a rival gang from Wenwu’s past, the immortal’s megalomaniac ways return. He trains Shang-Chi to be his number one assassin, and, at just fourteen-years-old, sends him off on his first mission.
Cut to present day. Shang-Chi is now an adult, living in San Francisco under the name Shaun. He and his best friend Katy (Awkwafina) work as hotel valets during the day, and most nights stay out too late singing karaoke. Katy has no idea of Shaun’s mysterious past until one morning on the bus a gang of daddy dearest’s assassins attempt to retrieve a jade pendant his mother gave him. Old instincts kick in and Shaun defends himself in what is probably the most fun fight sequence in any Marvel movie.
The action now shifts to Macau, as Shang-Chi, with Katy in tow, travel to China to warn Xialing that Wenwu’s assassins are likely coming for her pendant next. But questions loom: Why does Wenwu want the pendants, and what secrets do they contain? “I don’t know what he wants with them,” says Shang-Chi. “But it can’t be good.”
“Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” succeeds because of its action, its cast and story but most of all it works because of its sincerity. It is as epic as any other Marvel movie but it’s the small moments that really add up. The story’s emphasis on personal cultural details, relationships and family provides an earthbound grounding that helps balance out the mystical themes of the final forty-five minutes.
The charming relationship between Shang-Chi and Katy brings considerable comedic relief, but also helps differentiate Shang-Chi from his other Marvel colleagues. He’s not an alien, or a wealthy industrialist with a penchant for world saving, or genetically mutated. He’s a car valet with an extraordinary set of skills learned through years of practice. Liu’s performance is believable both as everyman Shaun and the heroic Shang-Chi, because the relationships that have formed him, with his mother, father, sister and Katy, are well detailed, showing us how and why he became the person he did. That backstory—the dreaded origin story—works, despite a reliance on flashbacks, and is distinct enough so as not to feel like Shang-Chi is being wrestled into the MCU.
The MCU influence becomes evident in the film’s busy climax. What was once a character drama, with great action sequences, that touched on issues of generational trauma via heartfelt performances—Leung elevates every scene he’s in with his majestic presence—switches gears to full blown, muddy CGI. The climatic world saving battle fills the screen with action, but compared to what came before—more up-close-and-personal fight scenes—it feels overblown and uninteresting.
Until that sequence, however, “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” has the heroics, heart, humor and homages to Asian culture to make it the best, and most fun, standalone Marvel movie since “Black Panther.”
I make the perfect cocktail to enjoy while watching Harley Quinn, Bloodsport and Peacemaker rampage through “The Suicide Squad.” Have a drink and a think about the movie with me!
The difference between the 2017 “Suicide Squad” film starring Will Smith and this weekend’s sequel, “The Suicide Squad,” goes far beyond adding the definite article to the title. I accused the first film of “trying to echo the very movies it should be an antidote to.” You know, the self-important, self-absorbed superhero blockbusters that forgot to unpack the fun along with the story. “The Suicide Squad,” now playing in theatres, has some social commentary but it doesn’t forget the fun. Or the violence, daddy issues or anthropomorphic weasel.
There’s a lot happening in “The Suicide Squad.”
At the beginning of the non-stop 132-minute rollercoaster ride, cold-blooded government official Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) offers a selection of the world’s worst criminals a deal. the Join Task Force X, a.k.a. the Suicide Squad, work for her and, and in exchange she’ll reduce their sentences at the notorious Belle Reve prison. Stray outside the job, however, and a chip inserted at the base of their skull will be detonated, ending the mission forever.
Signing on for the mission to invade the (fictional) South American republic of Corto Maltese and steal and destroy a piece of alien technology from evil scientist The Thinker (Peter Capaldi), are a motley crew of supervillains.
There’s assassin Bloodsport (Idris Elba), patriotic vigilante Peacemaker (John Cena) who will kill anything or anyone in the name of peace, the neurotic “experiment gone wrong” Polka-Dot Man (David Dastmalchian), the dumb-as-a-stump fish-human hybrid Prince Nanaue (Sylvester Stallone), the rodent loving thief Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior), the unhinged Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), crazed criminal and former psychiatrist Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) and field leader Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman).
Add to that TDK (Nathan Fillion), Weasel (Sean Gunn), Blackguard (Pete Davidson), Javelin (Flula Borg), Mongal (Mayling Ng) and Savant (Michael Rooker), and you have a dysfunctional “Brady Bunch” charged with saving the world, if a giant, telepathic alien starfish doesn’t get them first.
“The Suicide Squad” has many of the same features as a Marvel movie. The world is at stake, there’s an alien lifeform causing trouble, there’s villains and a team of outsiders with special skills who fight back. They may look the same on paper, and share blockbuster budgets, but DCEU’s “The Suicide Squad” is seedier; a sister from a different mister.
The kills are squishier and bloodier than anything seen in “The Avengers.” The sense of humour is more juvenile than “Thor: Ragnarok” and you’re not likely to find a cute rat with a backpack in “Black Widow.”
James Gunn has not forgotten his schlocky Troma Films roots. His resume includes a screenwriting credit for “Tromeo and Juliet,” and “The Suicide Squad” pays homage to “The Toxic Avenger.” That sensibility helps define the new Squad movie’s most memorable bits but Gunn also tempers the gross stuff with a certain kind of sweetness and some not-so-subtle social commentary.
When the characters aren’t in motion, kicking, shooting, punching, gouging or stabbing, they often engage in character work, explaining how and why life pushed them toward joining this unorthodox team. The stories are dysfunctional—being trapped in a box with live, hungry rats is the stuff of nightmares—but they create a bond between the Squad that is unexpected in a movie that, in the beginning anyway, values brutality more than empathy.
Built into the story of an invasion of another country are questions of US foreign policy and military integrity. Casting the likable John Cena as Peacemaker, a “hero” willing to do anything to protect his perceived ideology, is subversively brilliant. When one Squad member snarls, “Peacemaker… what a joke,” the line drips with meaning.
But don’t get the idea that “The Suicide Squad” has fallen prey to the foibles of the self-serious 2017 version. Gunn brings enough fun and absurd action to make the sonic overload of the second kick at the can equal parts silly and serious.
The release of “Wonder Woman 1984,” now available in theatres and as a 48-hour rental on digital movie stores for $29.99, comes as an answer to one of the worst dad jokes of all time.
Do you know why Diana Prince was called Wonder Woman? Because we all wondered what she was going to do next.
I know, it’s a terrible joke, but there was a great deal of talk about what was next for the character and, in pandemic times, when and how we’d be seeing the finished film.
Now that we know what Diana Prince’s next moves are, I’m wondering about something else. Where did the wonder go?
Set seven decades after the events of the first film, “Wonder Woman 1984” sees Diana Prince (Gal Gadot) living the life of a part time superhero. During the day she works in Washington, D.C. at the Smithsonian. Occasionally she transforms into her alter ego and solves a crime, help humanity or, in the film’s most fun action scene, use her Golden Lasso to hogtie some bad guys at a local mall.
Still mourning the love of her life, World War II flyboy Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), she leads a quiet life until one of her Smithsonian co-workers, Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig), is tasked with identifying a slew of recently recovered ancient artefacts. Among them is the dream stone, a mystical crystal rumored to grant wishes.
The insecure Barbara is reeled in by Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal), a flamboyant Gordon Gekko wannabe who charms her to lay his hands on the magical relic.
Turns out, the stories are true; the artefact can change lives, granting wishes and making the impossible, possible. But there are unforeseen, global consequences.
Diana’s wants to be reunited with Steve, but as their loves grows, her powers diminish. Barbara’s dream of having confidence comes true in spades, and she morphs into the villainous Cheetah. “I want to be an apex predator,” she says. Lord’s greed-by-the-way-of-wishes makes him the most powerful person on the planet, and with Cheetah at his side, his thirst for influence and authority may also be unstoppable.
“Wonder Woman 1984” has flashes of the vibrancy that made the original film so much fun but it isn’t as nimble.
A fifteen minutes opening Themyscira-set flashback to Diana’s youth starts things with an extended thud. The youngster competes against a bevy of older Amazons, learning an important life lesson in the process. It’s a blend of action and the film’s core message of honesty above all, but we’ve already seen Diana’s original story done better. As it is, it feels like a stall before we get to the main action.
Once there, things get off to a promising start as Wonder Woman does what she does best, help people in need. A quick montage of do-gooding introduces an inventive and action-packed sequence that sees Wonder Woman thwart crime in a way that could have been ripped from the comic books. Shot in vivid 1980s Day Glo, it’s the sequence that promises the rollicking good time to come. Except that the good times are few and are between.
There are some exciting moments. A car chase, expertly shot and executed, brings the closest thing to the kind of action established in the first film. It’s no run across No Man’s Land, but it gets the pulse racing. More aesthetic is a trip through the clouds, illuminated by fireworks down below. It’s a dreamy bit of aerial work that sets the stage for a lovely learning-to-fly sequence that is part metaphor for Diana’s life and part movie magic.
Those moments work and work well, but get lost in the film’s extended running time.
Gadot brings the same understatement and restraint that shaped her character in the original movie and she still shares great chemistry with Pine, but as far as messaging goes, why does Wonder Woman need a man to come to her rescue? Together they’re fun in the 1980s-fish-out-of-water scenes but his presence in the action scenes feels counter to Wonder Woman’s message of empowerment.
And I loved Wiig’s dig at a colleague who refers to her as Miss. “It’s Doctor,” she corrects, channeling her best Dr. Jill Biden, but the film also suggests that Minerva is only interesting when she dolls herself up with tight dresses and superpowers.
“Wonder Woman 1984” adequately fills the superhero pandemic gap but it isn’t wonderous. Where the first film pointed the way to where superhero movies could go, this one feels like a follower, not a leader.
