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Danvers will be mentored by the alien Mar-Vell believed to be the role Jude Law is playing. Nick Fury will appear.

And the plot concern the Skrulls, a race of powerful, shape-shifting aliens with green skin, wrinkly chins, pointed ears, and an interstellar empire. We have a guess about who that character is — Phyla-Vell, one of the crazier cosmic characters in Marvel lore. Instead, it was Mar-Vell, a Kree warrior and hero among his people.

Mar-Vell was part of a white-skinned subspecies among the blue-skinned Kree, so he could blend in on Earth. Carol was an Air Force pilot tasked with investigating Mar-Vell, but befriended and later fell in love with him. That gave her a number of special powers like what Mar-Vell has, including flight, strength, durability and the ability to absorb energy. First, Thanos and Mar-Vell have a ton of history in the comics.

His capacity as Protector of the Universe allowed Mar-Vell to get a powerful artifact, the Cosmic Cube, away from Thanos after he used it to take over the universe. When Thanos briefly left his body as a cosmic, astral projection, Mar-Vell used the opportunity to nab the cube, return time to a point before Thanos took over, and destroy it. Captain Marvel 33, art by Jim Starlin. Carol later took over the mantle of Captain Marvel after originally calling herself Ms. And hanging out with Mar-Vell, Carol Danvers probably would have heard about his exploits fighting Thanos, and she might know how to deal with him.

It could be that Captain Marvel was lying dormant to conserve her power to deal with Thanos. He uses his bands to create a passage into the Quantum Zone, and then from there, can pop out wherever he wants in the universe. On top of all that, we found another little detail that we think could be very important, involving the Soul Stone.

Sort of tangentially interesting is the story of the Star-Stalker, from Avengers The Star-Stalker spends most of that issue giving a lengthy monologue to the Avengers explaining how it got to Earth, and its story involves a visit to a nameless prison planet where the Kree exile a bunch of pacifist political dissidents. Those Kree dissidents, by the way, are known as the Priests of Pama, also a pretty obscure name in Marvel lore.

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It would make sense for the Soul Stone to have some accompanying priests, if Marvel Studios wanted to go there. Just a nightmare. A total nightmare. A totally chaotic stir fry of nonsense that tells the story of how Wolverine got his claws. Features an early version of Deadpool also played by Ryan Reynolds whose mouth is stapled shut, which should tell you all you need to know about it. Just a total mess, incoherent from the word "go. This is the Punisher as a straight revenge thriller, and it's not bad. Thomas Jane performs admirably, but the whole thing is missing that extra something that would have elevated it beyond standard genre fare.

Setting it in Tampa didn't help. A notorious flop at the box office and, yeah, it's not exactly "good. Dolph Lundgren and Louis Gossett Jr. For a movie starring Nic Cage about a dude who rides a Harley and turns into a flaming skeleton, this is a surprisingly mundane movie. We may never figure out what went wrong with Marc Webb 's Spider-Man duology, but his choice of Andrew Garfield to play Peter Parker is still brilliant. It just sucks that this movie doesn't really make any sense.


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It's also hard to remember because it's generally not memorable. The fantasy Marvel movie is directed by Kenneth Branagh , who covers the whole movie in canted angle shots and theatrical stylings. It's pretty boring, also, but at least it looks cool. More of the same impossible-to-follow hack-n'- slash plotting from the previous movie, offset by Andrew Garfield continuing to be awesome and Jamie Foxx going way over the top as the big bad.

Could have been a bizarre ironic summer classic if it were structured like a real movie and had any character development whatsoever. Instead it's just a shot of visual adrenaline that I'll probably want to revisit at some point -- but not when I'm sober. But as with the first "Avengers" movie its weaknesses are overcome by great character work.

It was an inspired choice, because "Spirit of Vengeance" was exactly as nutty as you'd hope a PG comic book movie would be. A lot of folks like to complain that all superhero movies are the same.

"Encouraging a spirit of learning and discovery"

But this was actually a pretty good World War II movie, too. Plot-wise, it never really adds up to anything, but the strength of the cast and the bizarre world they explore more than make up for it. Beloved nerd Guillermo del Toro took over for this one and ramped everything up to More vampires, more blood, more people getting sliced up -- and of course baddies whose jaws can split open and swallow a person's head whole. Later, as Mayor Corning, he relinquished control out of deference to political boss Dan O'Connell, a substitute father figure. In his personal life, the mayor's continuation of an arid society marriage and cultivation of domestic respectability could be seen, once more, as dutiful son proffering control to a grieving mother and widow who lost a husband and three children in their prime in part because of the ravages of alleged alcoholism.

Finally, with the death of his mother and Dan O'Connell less than one year apart, Corning had the opportunity, for the final six years of his life, to run the show himself and he galvanized power and control absolutely, with a micro-manager's possessiveness. After a lifelong quest for control, Corning was not about to relinquish it easily, even as he lay dying.

Back in Boston, for a time, the new year, , had opened with promise for the ailing Albany mayor. Through sheer force of his personality, Mayor Corning, whose condition had indeed been improving slightly, convinced all around him that he would return to his office, Room of City Hall, the only place he felt fully alive and in control: Mayor for life.

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Preparations were being made for Corning's return, as aides and ward heelers scurried about with the eagerness of serfs welcoming back their king from battle. The mayor's friend, developer Lew Swyer, and contractor Frank Letko had drawn up plans to install ramps and rails at his home at Corning Hill to make the house accessible to the wheelchair-bound Corning. A concrete pad was poured outside the house to hold oxygen tanks and Corning purchased a specially equipped van with wheelchair lift and special controls in January and had it parked outside the hospital in Boston so the mayor could drive himself home, home to City Hall.

Erastus was going to put special stops in the back of the van so the wheelchair didn't roll out when he was casting. The mayor held aloft a bedpan, swinging it back and forth, pretending to pour it on the reporter's head and laughing with the glee of a Groton first former pulling a prank, Holt-Harris recalled. This was the same January trip on which Amore brought four custom made suits for Corning, made of a gray wool that the mayor himself selected in England.

One of the suits Amore carried was forest green, the mayor's favorite color, which matched the green socks Corning wore to City Hall each day without fail -- considered an eccentricity by most, but the habit was, in fact, due to Corning's color blindness. He was very conservative in his dress.

Nothing wild for the mayor. Since childhood, reared in the military regimentation of Albany Academy and the Protestant Episcopalian sternness of Groton, his life was laid out for him with patrician perspicacity. Erastus had no say in being born into a gray wool pinstripe suit, a WASP Ascendancy uniform that he donned dutifully yet regretfully. There hadn't been many days since adolescence when Corning hadn't been expected to dress formally. Although such rigid style did not suit his other side, his earthy and profane side, Corning, at least in public, rarely shed the uniform of his aristocratic breeding.

As a young boy at Albany Academy in the early s, knickers, tie and jacket were required, except when replaced by a military uniform. At Groton, the suit was blue serge, with stiff Eton collars and black patent leather pumps at dinner. The suit at Yale was generally brown tweed. Corning's gray and blue pinstripes became a second skin during a half-century spent in politics.

Going casual for the mayor, such as at the annual Democratic Party picnic, meant khakis, a blue blazer and buttoned-down Oxford shirt, sans tie. Corning once joked that when a new acquaintance asked him to go fishing, the man expressed surprise when the mayor showed up without jacket and tie. Clothes make the man, it has been said, and the aphorism is especially apt in Mayor Corning's case. Clothing style is more than a metaphor for the mayor, who embodied the internal conflict of nature versus nurture.

As a boy, left to his own devices, young Erastus was as carefree and free-spirited as his butterfly collector grandfather, Erastus Corning Jr. That was the nature side of the mayor's personality. The nurture aspect was imposed upon the boy primarily by his overbearing father, Edwin Corning, who uprooted Erastus from his cheerful and unstructured life in Albany and replanted him in the lonely and competitive prep school groves of Groton's uncompromising academe.

Moreover, despite Erastus' innate sensibilities and profound interest in natural history, the father forced the son into a narrowly defined path of politics and business that would continue the Corning family legacy. In one dramatic gesture, then, the destiny of Erastus and the city of Albany was determined by a father intent on making certain his firstborn lived up to that preordained image.

As a result, since boyhood, Erastus Corning 2nd felt obliged to wear the uniform his father had tailored for him, and he spent a lifetime struggling to honor the suit of his father's memory and, at the same time, trying to shed its confining shape. None of the dozens of fitting sessions Amore had conducted with Corning over the years prepared the tailor for the condition in which he found his most loyal customer at the Boston hospital.

He'd had that tracheotomy and couldn't talk. He struggled to stand up so I could pin the suits to where they needed to be taken in, but he was so weak. We finally got a couple of nurses and they helped him stand while I took the measurements. He was so far gone, but he insisted he wanted to do this. Amore went about his work quickly and silently, marking the alterations with pins. Amore remembered feeling stunned and saddened, unable to find the right words to thank Corning for the many kindnesses the mayor had shown him since Amore emigrated from Calabria in southern Italy in Amore had worked at first for John Cerasoli at Albany's old Ten Eyck Hotel, before it was demolished, where Corning bought his suits, and later took over the business in with the mayor's encouragement.

The mayor was as good as his word.

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I'll have Dusty pick up my suits then. The mayor was buried in the gray pinstripe suit that Amore had altered. The other three suits are preserved in garment bags in Amore's third-floor storage room of his shop at State Street. I think I'll keep them always. I loved that man. Mayor in World War II -- were left to gather dust.

The hopefulness of January was quickly replaced by hopelessness and despair after Corning developed pneumonia and was placed back in intensive care, where he also developed arrhythmia, an irregular heartbeat. Still, in mid-February, , Corning battled against a failing mind and loss of muscle control and scrawled out these notes from his hospital bed in the Boston intensive care unit: "Coughing up secretions is the easy way out but for the super plugs and thick secretions and copious quantities.

Try at least four experiments by myself each day with suctioning with and without saline. Sit on stool in tub. Use hand held shower head. Much simpler, does the job. I will get a hospital supply co. There will be twenty different things he will keep me supplied with. During his long decline in the hospital, the mayor had been robbed of all the legendary vitality that had made his return to City Hall seem possible.

One by one, his faculties faltered. After he lost his voice and the use of his hands to write notes to visitors, his awareness of reality slipped away in a fog of pain and medication. He breathed with the aid of a respirator and was fed intravenously. The reminders such deterioration triggered in his memory during his own slow and torturous wasting-away must have been frightful, for he had watched his invalid father slide downhill like this and the image was seared into his consciousness: don't be a burden It had become Mayor Corning's mantra in the hospital, a phrase he wrote over and over again, and now, after his fierce struggle, he no longer had the energy to fight the inevitable.

On February 22, Corning underwent surgery for removal of a tumor on his large intestine and to stop intestinal bleeding. Half of his intestine was removed. Several days later, he suffered a mild heart attack. Still, loyal aide Keefe continued to come to Boston with papers and reports, carrying in his briefcase the essential business of City Hall, which Corning, on his deathbed, refused to relinquish. They'd send me on my way with a get-well wish for Mayor Corning's speedy recovery. Doctors termed his condition "life threatening" because of his age and other medical problems.

That wasn't Erastus Corning anymore. It was an enormous lump of flesh in bed with a face as big as a pumpkin. It was not my beloved friend.

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Doctor Beebe sat the Boston medical team down and said they would not invade that poor man's body again. And that was the end of the discussion. I shouldn't have come here. He was courageous to the end. He didn't give up. He was a good patient and a very brave man. I never heard him complain. The moments when Mayor Corning -- a man who seemed emotionally closed off to all, even his family -- opened up were rare. One such example could be found in a Christmas letter Corning wrote on December 23, , to his daughter from the Boston hospital, thanking her for the letter she sent the day before and trying to clarify, in shaky cursive and a mind medicated against pain, his life philosophy: "Number one, sentiment is good stuff.

Number two, just a small piece of crisp bacon will make an entire sodium free breakfast much more enjoyable. Number three, we are not perfect by a damn sight and in politics that's very clear. Politics is the art of compromise, and politics and life in general are much the same. Endicott Peabody, an educator "who never saw a bit of gray any place.

It was right or it was wrong. That's all. He wrote, "In politics, a modest amount of corruption is helpful in getting along. The word is not corruption in day by day existence, but it means pretty much the same. His daughter never heard that explanation. Her father's condition continued to decline after Christmas and his ability to speak or write was soon gone.

The few instances when someone broke through Corning's tightly held reserve were remembered as special glimpses into the soul he worked hard to shield from view. As the mayor lay dying, his daughter read him "The Gift of the Magi" as he had done for her as a child.

During one of her visits to Boston, she brought her father wintergreen mints, the kind he loved to buy during the summers of her girlhood at the homemade candy and ice cream shop in Bar Harbor, Maine, but he was too sick at that point to eat them, to allow the memory of taste to transport him back to a moment when they were a young and happy and loving family for a time. There was no apparent closure, however, when it came to the conflicting relationships of Mayor Corning with his wife, Betty Corning, and his longtime confidante, Polly Noonan.

Even in the truth-telling moments expected of life's final chapter, the dying Corning managed to juggle his two lives, the public and the private, never resolving the secrets he had carried and buried for so long. Noonan, a frequent visitor to Boston, made sure to check the schedule with Keefe to determine the days when Betty Corning would not be at the hospital.