THE MARVELS: 3 STARS
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 Ontario's Vellani as Ms. Marvel, a 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.
ANOTHER BODY: 3 ½ STARS
“Another Body,” a true crime investigative documentary that looks at a very 21st century criminal act, the deepfaking of pornography. “No woman in the world is safe from this technology.”
Wikipedia defines “deepfake” as a “portmanteau of ‘deep learning’ and ‘fake’" and explains they “are synthetic media that have been digitally manipulated to replace one person's likeness convincingly with that of another.” In other words, taking the real-life image of someone from the web and digitally cutting-and-pasting their face on pornographic footage.
“Another Body,” from directors Sophie Compton and Reuben Hamlyn, dives into the story of Taylor Klein, a 22-year-old engineering grad who began receiving strange, provocative messages from strangers on her social media. Turns out she’s being doxed by someone who has also deepfaked her face onto an online pornographic film.
Humiliated and concerned, she contacts law enforcement, who say they are unable to help her because no laws have been broken in that state. The deepfakes, she says, “[make me] feel like I’m not in control in that one area of my life, [and] it’s causing me to feel out of control in other areas of my life.”
When she hears of Julia, an old classmate whose life is being turned upside down by similar deepfaked images, the two become advocates for themselves as they compare stories and come up with a suspect, someone they both knew who would be capable of this most personal fraud.
“I don’t really think there is anything that could make up for what has happened,” Klein says.
To reinforce the power of this deepfake technology Compton and Hamlyn, in an effort to maintain Klein’s privacy, do the standard stuff, changed her name and the name of her school. What is different is the way they very realistically deepfaked an actor’s face over her real face. It protects her identity, but if you need any more convincing of the effectiveness of the technology to create realistic looking facial replacement, look no further. Once revealed, the effectiveness of it is chilling.
“Another Body,” despite its high-tech trick, is a fairly straightforward sleuthing documentary. Linear in its investigation of the crime, it uses modern tech, like Zoom and loads of screen grabs, etc, to tell the story of the grassroots, online connections that brought together a number of deepfake victims who form a community in the face of a lack of help from law enforcement. True justice may not be served—in most states deepfakes are not yet illegal—but Klein and the people she uncovers prove that something can be done.
WHO’S YER FATHER? 3 STARS
“Who’s Yer Father,” hailing from P.E.I. and now playing in theatres, is a comedy caper film, but underneath the crime and slapstick is a romantic beating heart.
Larry Constable (Chris Locke) is P.E.I.’s only private investigator (PI). After a week of training, he hangs out in his shingle, cornering the market on the small island.
“Larry Constable on the case,” he sings. “I’m showing up at your place.”
He gets the gig of his life when seafood magnate Luke Thorne (Matt Wells) hires the guileless PI to look into black-market lobster sales that are taking a piece of his business in the tiny village of Sandbar Cove.
“What I need you to do is find out who is buying the lobster,” Thorne says.
During his investigation, he meets plucky convenience store clerk Rhonda (Susan Kent). She has a way with a phrase—"This is getting dirty enough to grow potatoes in,” she says at one point.—and a willingness to help Larry. But when their stakeout reveals that Thorne’s wife Nicole (Kaniehtiio Horn) is having an affair, they decide to blackmail her—“It’s not blackmail,” Rhonda says, “it’s more like manifesting.”—and run away to a happily-ever-after with the cash.
Distracted by the burgeoning love affair with Rhonda, Larry allows the situation to spiral out of control.
“Who’s Yer Father”—the name comes from Maritime shorthand, a way to quickly figure out family and friend connections in close knit communities—is an unapologetically silly movie that feels like an East Coast Kitchen Party in tone, loose, fun with delicious seafood chowder (courtesy of Rhonda’s secret recipe).
Larry is a classic comedy character, a hapless guy, in over his head, but Locke makes sure there’s a sweetness to him as well. That goes a long way to keeping us onside with Larry and Rhonda as their blackmail scheme goes awry.
Kent plays Rhonda as a sharp-tongued troublemaker, the romantic interest who leads Larry on the movie’s central, hairbrained plan. She’s having fun, and Rhonda, with her downhome sayings and chowder recipe, would be a hoot to hang with.
Fun performances make “Who’s Yer Father?” crowd pleasing hokum, a mostly good time, but like a lot of parties, even ones with laughs and good food, it goes on a bit too long.
TESTAMENT: 2 ½ STARS
Academy Award winning Quebec filmmaker Denys Arcand returns to theatres with “Testament,” a satirical look at cancel culture and political correctness.
Rémy Girard is Jean-Michel Bouchard, a world-weary 73-year-old bachelor living in a retirement home. To pass the time during the day he walks in the local cemetery and volunteers at a school. At night, thinking about how little time he has left, he has trouble sleeping.
One afternoon a protest happens outside the retirement home.
“Respect our First Nations,” the assembled crowd chants.
The object of the activist’s disapproval is an antique fresco that hangs in the home’s front hallway. In its depiction of the Iroquois people welcoming Jacques Cartier to their land, the First Nations are presented as uncivilized and sexualized, whereas Cartier is decked out in European finery.
The protestors call it a distortion of history, a depiction of genocide created from a Eurocentric point of view and demand the home’s director, Suzanne Francoeur (Sophie Lorain), have the painting removed.
“This whole painting is a disgrace,” they say, “and we’re going to come back here every day until you do something about it.”
Suzanne finds herself in the midst of two scandals as she orders the fresco to be painted over, hidden from sight, only to have the Deputy Minister of Culture Raphaël Saint-Aubin (Robert Lepage) declare that the painting’s artist was “the greatest muralist of the 19th century” and should never have been covered.
“What you’ve done is unspeakable,” he yells at Suzanne. “There are no words. It was a D’Aubigny, you idiot.”
As the controversy roils, Jean-Michel has an awakening as his feelings for Suzanne take shape.
As a satire “Testament” aims for obvious targets—woke culture, political correctness, eager activists—and goes after them with a sledgehammer. The absence of subtlety in Arcand’s culture war screed mires the satire with a “get off my lawn” mentality that feels too easy, too mocking.
In one scene Saint-Aubin and director of fine arts Emmanuel D’Argenson (Yves Jacques) indulge in a whataboutism argument that hits every talking point in the anti-woke playbook. Trouble is, it doesn’t play like satire, it plays like bad social media memes given the breath to speak. It’s not exactly cutting edge.
Better is Jean-Michel’s awakening. As Suzanne becomes a scapegoat for her bureaucratic bosses his gruff exterior fades away, revealing his feelings for her. It’s a late start for a man who never embraced life completely, and Girard displays those wasted years, those regrets with a subtlety the rest of the movie lacks. By the film’s end, he has something to live for, and realizes that change is possible, no matter your age. That should be “Testament’s” real message, its beating heart. Not the poking of a finger in the eye of ideology.
