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.

Yet Another Ring Story - Das Rheingold

Back at the end of May, Audrey took me to a Wagnerian opera for my birthday.

Apparently I have stayed on the mailing list for the Edmonton Opera Company ever since Fenya sang in The Magic Flute with them back in 2015. We also saw Carmen that same year and enjoyed it as well, but when I stumbled across the announcement that, for their 60th season, they would begin an annual adaptation of Richard Wagner's famous (and infamously difficult to stage) Ring cycle: Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried and Gotterdämmerung, I was tremendously excited I hadn't missed an opportunity to this legendary opera in my own city.

I have been a fan of this music since before I knew it was even from an opera, encountering Ride of the Valkyries in the movie Apocalypse Now (and also The Blues Brothers), Siegfried's Funeral March in Excalibur and much of the rest in What's Opera Doc? featuring Bugs Bunny.

During my university years, a co-worker at the airport named David mentioned this when I complained about there not being a soundtrack to the film Excalibur. He patiently explained how much of the music was in the public domain, such as the haunting O Fortuna from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana and the dramatic Wagnerian music when Excalibur is returned to the lake, Siegfried's Funeral March. 

Before David moved to B.C. for school, he generously suggested a trade of two replica samurai swords and all 4 Ring operas on cassette, with librettos, in exchange for my 12 (first printing but definitely not mint) issues of The Watchmen. 

I loved reading the epic story of mystical gold being made into a magical ring whose story runs through 15 hours of operas before climaxing [SPOILER ALERT I guess] with a grieving magical Viking shieldmaiden riding her horse into a bonfire and exploding while Wotan's castle Valhalla collapses in the background. Watching the Metropolitan Opera stage this scene on PBS years ago, I was thoroughly disappointed in the scale of pyrotechnics and lack of equestrian drama, but appreciating that it is kind of, you know, a lot.

But David's collection was a lot of tapes to go through, and I really began to appreciate Wagner when I purchased Telarc's amazing CD, The Ring Without Words during university - a symphonic presentation of the scores for all four operas woven together as a seamless tapestry and fitting them all together on a single disc as a single 69 minutes performance.

I can't tell you how many bootlegs I made of this disc onto cassette for classmates who heard me listening to it, and it was in regular rotation for me for many, many years. The Amazon reviews suggest many, many experiences similar to mine too.

Knowing all this, Audrey was only too happy to buy the tickets for this scaled-down 'chamber' version of Das Rheingold - running only about 100 minutes compared to the usual two-and-a-half hours and with an 18 piece opera instead of the usual 85.

I was slightly disappointed to learn of these changes but excited at seeing the story unfold in the intimate environs of the Maclab Theatre, where the performers have an audience on three of their four sides and in much closer proximity than usual. There is also no orchestra pit, with the musicians all situated above and behind the tiny stage.

I have to say though, in that space, the orchestral prelude sounded just as rich and full as anything Telarc ever offered. I was thrilled to hear the familiar openings and other musical cues, like all the dwarfs smithying away in their underground mines. And the close quarters made all the singing and drama that much more fulsome as well. 

In this stage design, a 1930s hotel replaced Odin's hall, with Wotan the tormented, one-eyed boss who is yet as much larger than life as the Teutonic deity he represents. I mean, watching Donner the thunder god pull back his suit jacket and pull out a literal hammer made me wonder why they didn't sub in a nickel plated .45 automatic (which even has a hammer so the wording still works when he threatens the giants with it later ("Fasolt and Fafner, know ye the weight of my hammer's heavy blow?"), but that feels nitpicky.

An absolutely tremendous experience that made me incredibly reflective about my childhood, my youth, my family, Robert Duvall, Bugs Bunny, Thor comics, King Arthur and a great many other things, making it the perfect outing for my birthday - thank you Audrey!

I already have tickets for next June's production of Die Walküre on my wishlist...

Found It!

Norm pushed his hat back on his head and leaned his metal detector against the apple tree in the backyard. "Well, Stephen," he said, "I wish I could tell you where your ring is, but I can tell you where it isn't, and that's in your back yard."

I had found Norm through The Ringfinders website, calling him Monday morning and arranging for him to come by that afternoon. He was fully kitted out with three different metal detectors in a variety of sizes, and casually displayed a deep pool of knowledge and experience. When I told him how I had lost my wedding band while cleaning eavestroughs and thought it might be on the lawn or in the garden, he glanced down and shook his head.

"It's not on your lawn," he stated, pulling his own ring from his finger and tossing it haphazardly onto the grass. "Look," he pointed. Sure enough, his ring was plainly visible from over five feet away. He similarly discounted the idea that it might have washed away down the spout, believing the rain we'd had was nowhere near heavy enough to move even a small ring that far.

Norm interrogated me thoroughly, asking how long I had been outside (3-4 hours), what hand I wore my ring on (left), precisely where I had been working and where I stowed my ladder. He dropped his ring on the garage pad and demonstrated how loud a ping it made, as well as how far it might roll. He also suggested that if the ring came off in the glove it might well have been catapulted several feet from me. 

90 minutes later, he was so confident that the ring was not outside, I took heart that the ring must be in the house as he suggested.  After paying him his entirely reasonable fee, I checked a handful of possibilities in the house. 

I had rushed in to grab some insecticides after Audrey discovered an incredibly gnarly ant's nest in the trunk of our mountain ash, and might have taken my gloves off in front of that closet or right by the back door, but nothing turned up there. Norm had also suggested that the ring might fallen from the glove into the pocket of my cargo shorts, so maybe it fell out while I was stretching my back in the recliner, but upending that chair revealed nothing.

Norm suggested giving it a day or two before trying to retrace my steps, but I still checked the bedroom, the kitchen and the garage before heeding his advice. The week night schedule was fairly full, but I figured Audrey and I could make a proper attempt sometime on the long weekend.

I got up early on Saturday to smoke a brisket for the lads coming over that evening to continue our Call of Cthulhu campaign, the first time in 2024 with all five players in attendance. It was the first warm weekend day of the summer, so we enjoyed an hour or two of patio time before dinner, drinking beers and catching up, and they commiserated with me over the loss of my ring, which I suggested we were likely to find when we finally move out.

After supper, the lads moved the gaming table away from the basement bookshelves while I stowed the leftover brisket. With everyone at the table, but before we began gaming, I read aloud the brilliant "Call of Cthulhu for Beginning Readers", a Seussian version of the macabre Lovecraft tale that Glory had given me for Christmas.

Midway through the tale, at about five after seven, Jeff, seated at the end of the table by the shelves said, "hey Steve, what's the reward for your ring again?"

I looked up from my book and saw him holding it aloft with a grin my dad might have described as coprophagous. I was completely gobsmacked, but luckily Earl had the presence of mind to snap a picture capturing Jeff's obvious joy at ending my misery.

He had just seen it lying on the carpet near where he was sitting, which suggested it must have been flung or rolled from the foot of the stairs, but beyond that I have no idea how or when it arrived at that space. I thanked Jeff profusely, throwing in a shot of exquisite reposado and two Cthulhu coins with my gratitude.

I toyed with the idea of waiting to see how long before Audrey noticed the ring had returned to my finger, but when Jeff had to leave early I came clean so she could thank him as well (and save me from a range of torments at her hands).

The next day I texted Norm to let him know that the ring had been found: