Alberta 2024: Corruption, Incompetence, or Both?

(CAUTION: Politics incoming!)

My province is a shambles.

Our premier, Danielle Smith, barely managed to secure a majority until after six rounds of balloting at the UCP leadership race in 2022, and was elected with a reduced majority in May 2023 after ousting Jason Kenney. Now, supported by an increasingly bold band of angry cranks and right-wing reactionaries, her government somehow feels entitled to make increasingly deranged changes.

She decided last year to somehow find efficiencies in our health care by disassembling Alberta Health Services into four separate entities. If creating barriers and silos to create efficiency in an organization considered a global leader in integrated health care only six years ago seems counter-intuitive to you, rest assured, you are not alone. And learning recently that a 41-year-old man died of cancer before ever being referred to an oncologist really felt like an alarm bell going off.

Since then, Smith or her party has:

• announced (officially) an official policy on pronoun usage in schools
• announced (at a party meeting) that the Alberta Sheriffs will become the new provincial police force, despite 78% of Albertans wanting to maintain the RCMP
• has announced (at a party meeting again- not publicly) the transfer of some hospital authority from AHS to faith-based provider Covenant Health, which will prohibit those hospitals from offering reproductive health options as well as end-of-life choices such as MAID
• had her husband, a restaurant owner, attend confidential internal government discussions about a high-proposed high-speed rail link between Calgary and Banff
• has appointed Clownvoy lawyer Brendan Miller, who you may remember was actually ejected from the Emergencies Act inquiry for interrupting testimony, to the Law Enforcement Review Board
• mused to supporters about moving provincial services and ministries out of the major cities and into rural areas
• denied there is any wrongdoing or conflict arising from her, her staff, and her ministers accepting luxury skybox tickets to Stanley Cup playoff games from major donors, industry bigwigs, and the supplier of the Turkish tylenot she bought

(image by Michael Nabert for his Medium article)

It is quite the flurry of activity, which most observers attribute to her upcoming leadership review and the growing discontent of the far-right element of a party sliding further to the right every week. This element, largely represented by David Parker and the wanna-be MAGAs of the north, Take Back Alberta, also includes everything from rural small-c conservatives looking for a better deal to straight up separatists who see an Alberta police force, pension and bill of rights as steps along the path to eventual independence.

In the middle are a lot of scared, low-information people susceptible to misinformation and terribly fearful of creeping socialism, sharia law, the gay agenda, the woke mind virus et cetera.

But I can't believe they will continue to support a party that appears to be doing everything they can to cripple public healthcare in this province.

Breaking AHS up into four new agencies with more overhead, management and intersecting bureaucracies should be an offense to any thinking adult, let alone a government that actually passed "red tape reduction" legislation.

Emergency room closures are becoming a regular occurrence in this province, especially in rural areas. Staffing issues (caused by hiring freezes, caused by AHS's new government appointed leadership) means existing front line care providers are burning out like cheap Christmas bulbs while accredited nurses can't find full-time positions anywhere in the province. Meanwhile, other provinces like B.C. are scooping them up in droves.

A cynical person might suggest that the UCP aren't actually trying to fix public health care delivery at all, but are hamstringing it and delivering the death of a thousand cuts so it can collapse and be replaced by a for-profit system. Why else would Premier Smith suggest that AHS has a virtual 'monopoly' on health care? Whey would she offer the notion that "competition and fear" will provide better health services for Albertans?

Whether it is willful negligence or merely deep-seated incompetence, the UCP have shown an inability to deliver health care, something Premier Smith assured supporters she would sort out in the first 90 days of her premiership, which started 692 days ago as I write this.

And criminally mishandling health care delivery is only one of the above-bulleted axes many Albertans have to grind. It is a level of nincompoopery and corruption that belongs in a backwater or banana republic and not the home of the increasingly elusive "Alberta advantage."

Worst of all, it is three years until the next election, which the shady gits have already pushed from the previous 'fixed election date' in May until October so as not to coincide with wildfire season. Which, hey, at least makes sense, what with the UCP being the ones who cut the funding for wildfire-fighting the year before Jasper nearly burned to the ground.

What will be left of this province in October of 2027? Will the premier still be Danielle Smith or an even more selfish ideologue? Will she have succeeded into moving everyone onto vouchers for health care, schooling, pensions and who knows what else? Will the Wexiters and separatists, libertarians and Objectivists still be pulling her strings, or she theirs?

Or will something else happen in the meantime?

Someone raised the fascinating point the other day that it would only take six members crossing the floor to bring this government down. How intriguing...

I am not much of a joiner, politically, but I (and many others it seems) have signed up for AB Resistance. They describe themselves as "...a non-partisan grassroots movement listening to Albertans of all political stripes who are worried about the damage the UCP is doing to Alberta. We want to do something about it." Hey, me too!

Maybe this group can find the last six UCP backbenchers with a conscience and convince them to change sides - a real long shot in a government with the largest cabinet in  decades, if not Alberta history (small government - snort). 

Regardless of whatever approach AB Resistance end up taking, waiting to vote three years from now is not an option for me, and neither is just carping about the situation to like-minded folks. This gamble doesn't even cost me a stamp, and if you have similar concerns, maybe give them a look and let's see what happens.

It should be clear to everyone paying attention that Alberta can't continue like this - and shouldn't have to.

Telephony Protocols

When I was a kid living in New Brunswick, we lived in a farmhouse in the country and had a party line. This meant a number of households shared a single telephone line, and each household had its own designated ring so you knew when a call was for you. 

If you picked up the phone to make a call, you had no way of knowing whether or not someone else was already using the line, or how long they might be using it for. There was always the risk of picking up the handset and accidentally hearing a personal conversation that was absolutely none of your business, or the possibility of someone listening in to yours.

The phone also had a rotary dial, something fairly common well into my teenage years, as I recall, although most homes had at least one newfangled "push-button" phone.

When we moved to Leduc, we initially had a single phone on the wall in the kitchen, and then extension lines with the same number pulled to my parent's bedroom and to Dad's desk in the basement. When I was a teen, and Tara and I were both using the telephone more, he got us our own phone line with a different number, which felt tremendously important.

When I got a little bit older this separate line meant I could use my TRS-80 Colour Computer and 300 baud modem to explore the earliest online communities - bulletin board systems (BBS) and message boards and the like.

In college I got a retro candlestick phone (I have no idea where from) which looked marvelous, but made two-handed phone conversations kind of mandatory, and doing anything else while talking almost impossible. College was also where a colleague showed me the first cordless phone in the hands of a peer, an incredibly stylish little folding handset that flipped open like the communicators on Star Trek.

I was late to getting a mobile phone, and it would have been longer had I not required one for work, I think in 2005 or so. When I left that job in 2007, I was already so acclimatized to having one I got a basic pay-as-you-go device, and one later for Audrey.

Later on there came smart phones, but I didn't bother with a mobile date plan until, again, it became a work requirement in 2016 (and a perk, as they paid for it too). When my job changed in 2020, I found the data too hard to give up, so again I got a basic plan. With so many places having data, I don't usually go over the 1GB per month I pay for, but when travelling, it does happen.

Now everyone has a phone, almost everywhere we go, and it feels unnerving to be out of touch even for a little while. Audrey and I drove to Toronto from Edmonton in 1995, calling our folks from motel phones along the way on most days. This year in driving to Flin Flon on our way to Churchill, being out of service on Hansen Lakes Road felt unfamiliar and disturbing.

Many younger people don't like phone calls out of the blue, preferring a text asking for permission. I rarely talk for long periods on the phone, preferring a video chat on any number of platforms on my phone, tablet or PC. Unfamiliar numbers go straight to voicemail.

It occurred to me the other day that kids answering a household phone has probably been a thing of the past for a while now, at least in the majority of homes. What child growing up today will ever have cause to place their hand over the receiver of a shared communications device and bellow, "MOM! DAD! PHONE FOR YOU!"? This would probably seem completely peculiar to the young folks watching Winona Ryder pick up her kitchen handset with the extra-long cord so many of us had and asking "why does her phone have a tail?"

I mentioned this in passing to a coworker who confessed that if a boy called for his older sister while she was indisposed (and presumably a few times when she wasn't) he would inform them, "she can't come to the phone right now, she's taking a dump."

Busy signals, answering machine messages, all things of the past, largely, replaced by interactive voice menus and automated callbacks - but I don't imagine any of us miss being tethered by that curly cord, even the extra-long ones.

Texans Meet Belugas

Most visitors to Churchill, Manitoba, even in the heat of summer, hope to get a glimpse of a polar bear.

But not the Carrolls - a family from Texas that Audrey and I met on the train from Thompson.

The Carrolls were seated across the aisle from the two of us, their seats facing each other. They were grandmother Marge, her son Michael, daughter-in-law Stephanie, and their young adult son Sean (and I hope I didn't misspell these names too badly!).

From what I understood, they had driven all the way from Arlington, Texas, to Thompson so they could take the train to where they could view beluga whales in the wild. I recall perhaps one or more of them disliked flying, and since flights into Churchill are pretty expensive anyways, why not road trip it?

Michael and Stephanie were pretty close in age to Audrey and I, and all the Carrolls were extremely nice people. Since Audrey and I had made this rail pilgrimage on four previous occasions, we were only too happy to outline what to expect, how the reclining seats worked and how to get the conductor to rotate one of their seat pairs to give them a bit more leg room.

I learned that Marge had been the impetus for the trip, and that seeing beluga whales in their natural environment had been on her bucket list for years. I was astonished, stating how amazing it was that they had (effectively) travelled from one of the largest non-oceanic water bodies in North America (the Gulf of Mexico) to the other (Hudson Bay) to witness such a whimsical animal. That is nearly 1800 miles! At any rate, we exchanged phone numbers so that if they needed anything or had any other questions once in town, we could try to help.

Our train pulled into Churchill around 10:30 Tuesday morning, and the Carrolls made their way to the Seaport Hotel - conveniently, the same place their bus for the beluga zodiac tour would pick them up the next day, before catching the train back Thursday evening. Meanwhile, my cousin Parker picked us up and brought us to his house before he boarded the southbound train that very same evening, as he was flying to meet his girlfriend in Costa Rica the next day.

In addition to letting us stay in the house he had recently remodeled, Parker had also graciously left us the use of a vehicle, which gave me an idea. I texted Stephanie and asked if they wanted a quick drive around Churchill the next day, to see some of the attractions you can't reach on foot. She quickly agreed and we arranged to meet up late the next morning. 

Sean elected to stay home, but when I got to the Seaport, the other three were raring to go, so I drove them past the port to Cape Merry (the blue "1") on the map.

This is a gun battery intended to help defend the harbour along with the imposing Fort Prince of Wales (5) across the Churchill River. There is also a memorial cairn for Jens Munk, the Danish explorer who came here seeking the Northwest Passage in 1619, but returned home with only two other members of his 64-man crew after a brutal winter on the shores of Hudson Bay.

But we were there for the belugas, because from the battery you can not only see them clearly in the river, you are close enough to hear them too.

The Carrolls at Cape Merry

Marge was thrilled, snapping pictures with her 3 or 400mm lens and recording some video. Michael and I walked out to the cairn and I discovered he was also quite a Rush fan, which I found delightful.

Stephanie and Marge must have spent 40 minutes entranced by the frolicking cetaceans, but there was more to see, and of course, a closer encounter with them scheduled for later that day. We drove out to the Churchill Northern Studies Centre and the old rocket range, driving past the rusting hulk of the MV Ithaca just offshore, and also made our way over to see Miss Piggy, the wreck of a C-47 cargo plane.

And it was somewhere on that drive that Marge told me the story that explained precisely why she was so fascinated by beluga whales, and I apologize for any details I have incorrect here.

Many years ago, the family had visited Sea World in San Antonio. Fascinated by the white whales even then, they had either wandered into or stayed in the amphitheatre while one of the belugas was swimming, and he began interacting with them. Marge had apparently been encouraging him to spit water out of his tank and into the seating area, when one of the trainers came by to explain they really shouldn't be there. But as sometimes happens, they ended up chatting him up, learned this particular male whale's name was Beethoven, and I believe Stephanie ended up onstage or helping with the next performance.

Years later at a different aquarium (I want to say Chicago?), Marge was looking at belugas through an underwater window. One of them was 'standing' nearly vertically in the water, looking directly through the glass at Marge, his fins almost looking like they could be waving at her. 

Marge asked a trainer if the whale was able to see her, and when she saw which whale it was, she said, "oh yeah, Beethoven? He's a lover, that one."

It turns out that being a male beluga capable of breeding while in captivity placed Beethoven in high demand, and Marge encountered him a third time at yet another facility elsewhere in the U.S. 

Now, could you prove that this highly intelligent sea mammal could not only see this lady from Texas, but also remember and recognize her? Of course not. But Marge thinks he could and I believe Marge, so as far as I am concerned that settles it.

All the Carrolls were very grateful for a chance to get a little ways out of town and see some of the surrounding area and thanked me profusely when I dropped tham back off at their hotel, but in truth, I was just returning some of the enormous privilege of having been taken to all of those places (and more!) on my previous visits. I appreciated a small chance to pay it forward.

The next day, the four of us made our way down to the Seaport for our own beluga excursion, and saw the family from Texas sitting outside as they waited for the train to arrive from Thompson so they could board it. They'd had a wonderful time on their own zodiac tour the day before, but again made sure to thank me for showing them the other sights. 

I think there is a pretty good chance they may come back some time in the future to take the Tundra Buggy tour and perhaps see Churchill's main animal attraction as well, but helping someone scratch an experience off their bucket list after such a long journey was tremendously gratifying!

Glory finally caught a beluga smile!

Lined Up

Sure,Folk Fest is about music, obviously; but at its core it is undeniably about lineups as well.

When greeting patrons outside the corral by Stage 1 a little before 7am, I said “welcome to the first of many lines.” And it was true!

They lined up to get in the corral for the tarp lottery, where we draw tickets to determine the order they will leave the corral and line up by the sidewalks around Gallagher Park until they can place their tarp on the hill.

I follow them on afterwards, and before my tarp is tacked down, there is already a lineup of 60+ people waiting to get into the music and merch tent and pick up CDs and t-shirts and the like.

And even if that's not your speed, you will be lining up for food, to go to the bathroom, to fill up your water bottle, or, if you have the stamina (and many, many do) there is an enormous but surprisingly quick line for the beer tent.

And tonight when it is all said and done, I will join the processional of tires but happy listeners moving slowly and carefully down the ski hill, and then join another line of volunteers waiting for the shuttle to take them back to the parking lot.


But until then, this is the lineup occupying the most space in my mind:

The Sleeper Car Experience

When Audrey and I planned our return trip from Churchill in July, we had initially planned to do the entire 14-hour drive from Thompson in one go, so we booked a sleeper cabin to ensure we were well rested. 

Tragically, this alone did not grant us the additional endurance required for such marathon travelling, but hey, you don't know unless you try, right? And sleeping in an actual bed, in a private room, on a moving train, was a very cool experience.

I want to say it was a little more than double the price, so two economy tickets (in a reclining seat, with a plug-in for my CPAP) would have been about $200, while a cabin for two made that part of the trip about $470 or so.

After loading our larger luggage onto the baggage car, we boarded the sleeper car directly from the rear of the train and our delightful attendant (porter? concierge? I'm not even sure), Val, showed us to our tiny cabin. And to be sure, claustrophobes need not apply - I never thought to try but am pretty sure I could touch all four walls without moving my feet from the center of the room. 

She showed us the features and amenities of the room (which included a wall-mounted fan) and advised we would need to let her know when we wanted the beds put out for sleeping, which we asked her to do at 11:00.

When she left and closed the door, we were left with a space about 5' x 7' with two relatively comfy reclining seats (albeit without the footrests of Economy class), a sink and mirror, and our own (tiny) washroom. We eventually figured out we could stow our two carry-ons in the 'attic' above the washroom which made our sitting area feel a bit more spacious and the sink had a little hinged cover we could set my iPad on to watch a movie later. 

We got ourselves situated pretty quickly and decided to go spend a little time in the observation car while it was still light outside.

On our way, we discovered that our car actually did have a shared shower we could use (although the rocking motion might make you rethink shaving with a blade). If you were travelling to Churchill from Winnipeg ( a 40+ hour endeavour) I am certain this amenity would be greatly appreciated!

And we also passed the car full of sleeping berths - small couches that face each other during the day and which convert to curtained bunks for sleeping at night, a la Star Trek: Lower Decks.

The domed car is usually a bit cool, so it is a good idea to bring a sweater. The very first seat is rear-facing, with a table between it and the next seat which makes it very popular with people who want to share a meal or play cards while enjoying the scenery. The remaining seats with their airline-style tray-tables provided a great space for me to sit and write my blog the next morning so I could post it on-schedule once we got back into wi-fi country.

There is also a small dining area in the area just below the dome, and a small canteen with coffee and light meals directly below it.

It had been a long day though, so we retired to our cabin to watch a movie on my iPad - Bullet Train, ironically, which I had downloaded from Netflix. Tragically I had not realized that my new iPad, purchase two months ago, did not have a headphone jack so we were unable to use my splitter. Luckily I was able to set my Bluetooth speaker on a suitcase between us so we could hear everything clearly enough over the ambient train nose and track clacking (but turned subtitles on anyways).

Shortly after the movie wrapped up, our porter (not Val) came by to convert our room, so we headed back up to the dome care for a few minutes while he did so. When we came back, he was wrapping up, but before leaving, asked if we wanted a knock on the door if the aurora borealis was visible that night. Audrey said yes without a moment's hesitation, and I thought this was a tremendous service to offer.

The beds do not leave a lot of room in the cabin once they are deployed, but are spacious and comfortable. There was a plug-in for my CPAP and room for it to rest near me at the head of the bed, as well as a shelf for my eyeglasses and a pouch I could tuck my iPad behind once I went to sleep.

Each bunk has its own reading lamp, and the upper one even has some sturdy nylon webbing to keep a sleeper safely in place if the train should experience excessive deceleration.

Now, the Churchill train is slow, peaking around 50 km/h, but not necessarily steady, proceeding as it does over muskeg and ground tormented by frost heaves. I worried that this would make it difficult to sleep, but in truth, the rocking back and forth is kind of soothing, and we both slept soundly through the night.

The next morning we hung the "Please make up our room" sign on the door (a first for me I believe) and headed to the canteen. We got two microwaved English muffin breakfast sandwiches and two coffees ($19) and ate them in the dome car.

When we returned to our room, the beds had been stowed and chairs replaced, and it was somewhat liberating being able to brush our teeth in our own sink without worrying that someone else was waiting to use the toilet. I doubt people on the Orient Express think about things like this, but having travelled this route seven times prior, it was a notable perk.

We arrived safe and sound in Thompson around noon, caught the shuttle to the campground where we had parked it (although the train station parking lot is apparently much safer than it used to be), and began the long drive home.

In the final analysis, can we say the Via Rail Cabin for Two was worth the money we paid for it? Well, certainly, for the experience, if nothing else. I have grown up seeing people sleep on trains in the movies and reading about it books since I was a kid, so getting to do it myself for once was extremely cool. And if a person valued their privacy, or required their own washroom, or preferred to isolate from other passengers for health reasons, this is certainly a good way to do it.

Would I pay the extra $135/person (each way) the next time Audrey and I make our northern pilgrimage? I am honestly not sure. I don't find the recliners that bad for sleeping and I would prefer to spend that money on dinner and drinks at the Tundra Pub, but if the budget allowed for it, I would certainly consider travelling by sleeper car in the future.

(And while eating breakfast in the dome car, I also learned from the conductor that Via Rail has one of the few corporate logos that is exactly the same when viewed upside down.)

Unmasked?

Apparently San Diego ComicCon was having a real banner day in Hall H at around the same time that I was enjoying Deadpool & Wolverine in IMAX. Hall H is the largest auditorium at the con and where Marvel Studios has dropped some amazing reveals in the past.

At the panel for the upcoming Fantastic Four movie (which I am becoming more and more excited about all the time), Kevin Feige, studio head and Chief Creative Officer, announced that the Russo Brothers would be returning to direct the next two Avengers movies.

Anthony and Joe Russo directed some of my very favourite MCU films (Captain America: Winter Soldier and Civil War, and Avengers: Infinty War and Endgame), so I was over the moon to hear they were back for more. Hopefully they can bring writers Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely with them too.

The Russos came onstage to talk about the honour and challenge of helping to wrap up the MCU's latest 'saga'. They also announced that 2026's Avengers: The Kang Dynasty was being renamed Avengers: Doomsday, presumably as part of a pivot away from the actor who had been playing the time travelling villain Kang, Jonathan Majors. No change to Avengers: Secret Wars (2027), which makes a lot of sense since the Russos had both said that was one of the few titles that might draw them back to Marvel from their own projects.

Doomsday obviously suggests that the new villain du jour is none other than the monarch of Latveria and perennial foil of the Fantastic Four, Doctor Doom, arguably the best villain in the entire Marvel pantheon. And the Russos wasted no time in introducing the actor they had selected to play this iconic figure, and in such a stylish reveal:

That crowd reaction gives me chills every time I hear it, even though I have tremendously mixed feelings about casting Robert Downey Jr., the man who played Iron Man, as Victor von Doom. And judging from what I am seeing on the interwebs, I am not alone in my concerns.

But I am also cautiously optimistic!

Now, those of you less invested might be surprised that the return of a beloved actor to such a pivotal role in this immense movie franchise would be met with nothing but sheer joy, but the apprehension is actually quite understandable. 

You see, the fear is that Doctor Doom, this distinct and well-established character (who actually pre-dates Iron Man by almost half a year!), an imperious and arrogant monarch of a fictional European nation whose mask conceals a horribly scarred visage, will become some twisted, alt-universe, "What If...?"  version of our martyred Saint Tony of Stark.

This is not an unreasonable assumption to make either; the cowardice of (most) studio executives is legendary and the idea of spending so much money on an actor and then not showing his face will be a hard sell. The Thanos Saga had many heroes, but the major arcs coalesced around wise cracking, irreverent, smart-ass but still actual genius (plus billionaire, playboy. and philanthropist) Tony Stark and his armoured alter ego, Iron Man. 

And there is a precedent in the source material as well: Tony Stark has been Doctor Doom and Victor von Doom has been Iron Man. Also, Deadpool & Wolverine introduced the concept of 'anchor beings,' character so fundamentally important that their removal leads to the extinction of their entire universe (a dangerous notion that I hope never leaves the boundaries of the fourth-wall breaking Deadpoolverse). Such a notion could be the angle that Marvel Studios needs in order to justify bringing Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, a real crowd pleaser and proven box-office draw, back to the MCU.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I will hate it if they go that route, but I will still likely see the films. I will never stop lamenting the missed opportunity there though. A Tony Stark/ Doctor Doom connection would be a real admission of failure to me and a lot of other fans beside. It would be a concession to unoriginality and dramatically unsatisfying in the extreme. This casting already smacks a little bit of desperation but it doesn't yet feel cheap and exploitative and I really, fervently hope that is not the direction they intend to go.

And I think there is actually good reason to believe they won't.

I have been thinking about this casting for days now, too much, really (ask anyone), and I knew I was going to write about it so I was kind of disappointed when Susana Polo from Polygon beat me to the punch and expertly expressed almost precisely how I felt about the whole situation in an article entitled "When Robert Downey Jr. plays Doctor Doom he better keep the mask on."

And I mean, that's it - that's the magic bullet right there. 

In the comics, Victor von Doom does not show his face. Not never (after 80 years? come on!) but exceedingly rarely, as near as dammit to never. Even in his origin story, where a dangerous experiment at university leaves him horribly disfigured, you never see the face of the man he once was, nor the ravaged thing he has become. 

This mystery, this allure, is foundational to the character - this is not a tragic figure who is trapped behind a mask of iron like the Dumas character. This is someone whose arrogance and pride is such that they choose to isolate themselves, rather than reveal imperfection or vulnerability.

So no matter who Marvel ended up choosing to play Doctor Doom, my hope would be that his is a mask that can come off, but never, ever does. In fact, I would suggest doing the origin story above strictly from von Doom's POV, which also gives you a chance to have Pedro Pascal's face peering in sympathy at Victor's ravaged features after trying to warn him of the risk, only to have an angry von Doom croak, "Begone, Richards!"

And if the mask never comes off, the comparison to Tony Stark is never an issue. No shocked recognition, no gasp of realization - there ends up being absolutely no connection between Stark and von Doom except for the talented actor who played both. 

And who also played Charlie Chaplin as a young, middle-aged, and elderly man. 

And who played a white Australian actor portraying a black American soldier in Tropic Thunder. (Thanks for the reminder, Zach!)

If the mask stays on, I don't think there is any danger in audiences or characters mistaking Doctor Doom for Tony Stark if the mask stays on. But is that realistic? Will studio executives let Feige spend a boatload of money drawing Robert Downey Jr. back to the MCU and not want to put his face on the posters and merchandising? Won't RDJ want to get his (admittedly handsome) face on screen at some point, as all masked actors are wont to do?

Well, maybe. But there are a few factors that suggest maybe the mask can, indeed, stay in place. (Or if it comes off, they either map on another face, distinct from RDJ's, or have it so scarred and twisted it makes Wade Wilson look like George Clooney.)

First, RDJ is the 800-lb gorilla in this scenario, not the studio execs. In addition to the aforementioned princely sum, he only agreed to return if the next two Avengers movies were directed by prior collaborators and known quantities the Russo Bros, and he got them.

RDJ is also know for getting what he wants, such as increased pay for his fellow Avengers actors. So much so, in fact, that the rallying cry for their agents was rumored to be "f**k you, call Robert."

Downey is not just a good actor, he is a great actor, and now has an Oscar to prove it (for his supporting role in Oppenheimer). But he is not ashamed of his acting in the unapologetically commercial yet astonishingly high quality and emotionally satisfying  Avengers movies. He calls it some of his best work that went unnoticed because of the genre it happened to be in.

The Russos are comics fans, and even before Endgame came out, they said the only story that might draw them back would be Secret Wars, the series that got Joe Russo really into the medium. Even if no one else does, I am wholly confident they understand the importance of a masked Doom.

Kevin Feige is one of history's most successful film producers recently honoured with a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. He is also a huge nerd, but more critically, he understands better than anyone ever has the intersectionality between successful movies and the source material they are adapted from. Most importantly he know where to stand his ground, and I am confident he will do so on a masked Doom.

If Feige, the Russos and Downey present a unified front on this, I am confident of a positive outcome; but like I said before, RDJ is the 800-lb gorilla here, so let's consider a few other final facts. For instance, I only discovered today that he had actually auditioned to play Doctor before, for Fox's Fantastic Four movie in 2005, so portraying the character has occupied some portion of his mind for nearly two decades.

After the reveal at ComicCon, Downey said "New mask...same task. What'd I tell you, I like playing complicated characters." Now, I suppose that could mean, 'what is the connection between multiversal Tony Stark and Doctor Doom?!', but I really hope it isn't. I hope he finds Victor von Doom a complicated, intriguing and ultimately satisfying character to play: an arrogant, aristocratic and ruthless villain who is also fully human, haunted by failure, bound up in a complex code of honour perhaps even he himself doesn't fully understand.

I hope he sees Doctor Doom as a chance to bring one more brilliant performance to an epic film that will also feature prominently on lunchboxes and children's Hallowe'en costumes. and I hope he does so completely bereft of irony. Hell, I hope RDJ ends up getting nominated for and then winning the first acting Oscar for a Marvel movie - man, I would probably get that acceptance speech tattooed.

But the main reason I believe Downey might play the role as distinct from Stark comes from the reveal itself. He comes onto that stage in a crowd, anonymously, and I fully believe he is in character even after he removes the mask so dramatically, right up until he puts his sunglasses on. 

Look at his face after he unmasks:

There is no smirk, no smarm, not even a smile on that face; no trace of Tony Stark smugness. That face is serious, imperious, dispassionate, superior - maybe even regal.

If this is indeed the face of Doom, I hope and pray it stays behind the mask.

Marvel Regenerated? - Deadpool & Wolverine

Although this review should be spoiler-free (as always), it is problematic for two reasons: first, I cannot be trusted. Because I am an unbashed fan of the source material (i.e. comics) even more so than a movie buff, it is impossible for me to be objective about these films, so I don't even try.

Furthermore, because I don't want to spoil anything, my hands are tied in describing much of what I enjoyed so much about Deadpool & Wolverine, but I will take a shot at it.

A lot has happened since the last Deadpool movie was released in 2018; the character has moved from a rival studio (Fox) to the MCU (Disney). Marvel has lost its once ironclad grip upon pop culture, largely due to overextension. D&W is, in fact, Marvel's sole offering for 2024, the first year with only one MCU movie since 21012 if you discount the pandemic. (Deadpool to Logan: "Welcome to the MCU! You're joining at kind of a low point...") 

To be honest, I've enjoyed all the Marvel offerings to date to some extent, with the possible exception of Secret Wars, which felt like a wasted effort and missed opportunity. Sure, I've liked some MCU flicks more than others, but like the comics they are drawn from, I appreciate when the movies diverge into psychedelia, farce and even self-referential humour. But it was heartening to see how many other people were looking forward to seeing Hugh Jackman's return as Wolverine, and it was also good to see Marvel poking some fun at itself throughout the film.

And when Ryan Reynolds's Wade Wilson grabs an unconscious Logan by the lapels and clearly spies the legit superhero outfit we have waited so long to see, even he is moved to say, "well, that only took 24 f**king years...".

So let's be clear about a couple of things right up front: 

If you don't like or are tired of superhero movies, this one won't change your mind.

If you found the first two Deadpool movies a little too irreverent or raunchy or gory for your tastes, give this one a wide berth as well.

But if you find the MCU's ever-complexifying canon overwhelming, I have great news - this is barely an MCU movie.

Oh, they get the studio leader and fanfare, and the Time Variance Authority (introduced in the Loki streaming series) is a critical part of the plot, but very early on they lay out enough exposition (Deadpool even exclaims "what the MacGuffin is that?" during the setup) that even newcomers can probably follow along easily enough. And Matthew McFadyen as Mr. Paradox make a great foil for the Merc With a Mouth. There is also a wonderful cameo early on from an Avengers-adjacent stalwart.

What follows is a two hour love letter to the Fox superhero movies, actually, full of bloodshed, cheap gags and cameos galore, but all three of those elements are well-handled and GOD I wish I could tell you more, but please trust me and go see it quickly if you don't want many of the best moments spoiled for you, all right?

Wolverine's hero suit becomes a topic of conversation more than once in the movie, and even prompts a sober moment of guilt-laden reflection when Logan confesses why he wears it. And if I am being honest, the costume and the cowl were enough to ensure I saw this movie in the theater (even if I had to wait an unbearably long time for the latter). Grown men on the set were said to be moved to tears when Jackman showed up in the iconic blue and yellow outfit, and the actor even said, "why the hell didn't we do this years ago?"

Beyond the suit (God, the suit! I am so happy y'all!) there is no shortage of fan-service, but Shawn Levy and company know when to hang a lampshade on it, like prior to the first big set-to between the titular characters, when Deadpool breaks the fourth wall to say "okay nerds, get your special sock ready - this gon' be good!"

And there's a lot of these fights, some of which are pretty long, which I am sure will bore Audrey to tears - but maybe not. They keep their staging pretty imaginative for the most part, with some of them getting so busy I can't wait for a chance to watch them at home with a hand on the rewind button.

But it is a solid stuff, overall. The ridiculous plot gives room for both some emotional gravitas, an excellent new villain (Emma Corrin as Charles Xavier's sorta sister Cassandra Nova, introduced in Grant Morrison's extraordinary comics run 20-odd years ago), and a chance to say farewell to some long-standing characters.

I am not in the least bit clear how the resolution of the movie might or mightn't open the door for mutants in the MCU, and I earnestly do hope they don't keep Hugh Jackman doing this until he's 90, but in a strange way, Deadpool & Wolverine will make still another very decent farewell piece to this iteration of the character (19 appearances by Jackman as Wolverine! 19!) a brighter and lighter but still emotional counterpart to bookend the more earnest and serious Logan (2017).

Commercial success appears assured with a staggering $205M opening weekend, and with Feige's workload a little lighter, I am hoping there are more Marvel successes to follow this one.

To Beach Their Own

On our last day in Churchill, Audrey and I went beachcombing for the first time.

It has nothing to do with the legendary CBC program of the same name, and simply involves finding a piece of coastline and looking for small ‘treasures’ among the gravel, sand and stones. Typically nothing of value, but colourful stones, occasional fossils and bits of sea glass or broken porcelain and pottery. 

This is something Glory has done with Belinda since she worked up here in 2020, and Belinda kindly brought us along to her prized spot out by Cape Merry.

It is not a long walk from the gravel road to the beach, but not without obstacles; the soft soggy terrain can leave you with a soaker if you aren’t careful, and while there are often large rocks or boulders to step on, not all of them are set squarely on the ground (or atop other stones).

With every step, I pictured myself slipping and either wrenching an ankle or breaking a leg. Knowing that the four ladies I was with would be incapable of carrying me out really gave me pause. In fact, I figured it might take a helicopter and bear sling to extract me from the broken terrain, which would surely play havoc with our 7:30 train departure!

By the time we reached the beach, my neck and shoulders were sore with stress, but this was quickly forgotten as we all turned our attention back to the ground. I quickly saw the therapeutic element to this activity, as my thoughts swiftly migrated away from aches and train schedules and words and refocused almost exclusively on colors, shapes and textures. Paying that much attention to the ground provided a very direct link to my inner child.

Fenya found a small fossil almost immediately, and then a glass marble. Belinda and Glory found marbles fairly quickly as well. “What makes them stand out from the ground? “ I asked, “the color, the translucence or the shape?” The roundness, two people answered almost simultaneously.

Glory pointed out a marble close to my foot, and I found another one just under edge of some low foliage - the roundness is definitely what distinguished it from the gravel and sand around it.

The next hour passed surprisingly quickly. I collected some bits of sea glass in a range of colours and a couple of bottle fragments (including a brown bottle bottom from a distillery in Glasgow), but also a few stones, a piece of bone, some driftwood, and some porcelain fragments.

My most interesting piece was a verdigris-covered valve handle of indeterminate age, but the others found a doll’s hand, piece of animal vertebrae, and a bottle with a partial logo for the Arctic Beverage Company, which I’d never heard of.

We found a shorter route back to the road, but it was also wetter, making our socks a bit damp, but far less treacherous footing.

Back home, the girls and Audrey and I packed our treasures into Ziplocs so they could all be muled home on our train. With any luck we will get a chance to build them into some shadow box collages with resin, and have a permanent reminder of our beachcombing experience on the edge of Hudson’s Bay.

Smeaton Can’t Be Beaten

Today was the road trip.

To get to Churchill by train, you want to go to Thompson. 

To get to Thompson by car, you want to drive to Flin Flon to spend the night.

To get to Flin Flon in a single day is by no means insurmountable, but not for the weak-hearted either. I grew up doing long road trips across Saskatchewan to visit Dad’s family in southern Manitoba, sometimes in a single haul, so 10-11 hrs in a car doesn’t intimidate me, and Audrey is an experienced highwaywoman herself

We both awoke a little after 5 am and could not get back to sleep, we staggered out of bed and packed the cooler with drinks and trainwiches and hit the road at about 20 to 8. Gassing up in Shellbrook, we realized that gave us more than enough range to bypass Prince Albert and head up to Hansen Lakes Road, the preferred route to Flin Flon, as the road from Nipawin to the Pas feels like it would be right at home in Sarajevo in the early 90s. Hansen Lakes Road is more remote, with very limited cell service, but is generally in better condition and paved for much of its length.

However.

As you leave Prince Albert behind, Google Maps may alert you to a shorter route, shaving perhaps 10 minutes off your time!

Do not be fooled.

This beguiling shortcut will lead you onto. A dusty gravel board, washboard at best, rutted and drifty at worst. The rest stops are few and far between, and you are swarmed by enormous horseflies (called bulldogs by many locals) the moment you leave your car.

Audrey had chosen to drive this leg and was not only very tense about the gravel but also very terse. We’d had to turn off the audio drama we’d been listening to (Batman Unburied with Winston Duke) and I watched her white-knuckle the wheel until we needed to pull over onto a weedy sideroad for an unscheduled rest stop.

I took the wheel afterwards and said, “we’ve actually driven that road before, but we will take the other road on the way back, all right?” Audrey nodded in agreement.

“And from now on, the way we will remember,” I continued while pointing at the more desirable turn on the map, “is that ‘Smeaton can’t be beaten’!”

Mostly she rolled her eyes, but there was maybe a little grin there too? I’ll take it.