Who can honestly deny having burst out laughing, chuckled, or at least given a polite smile in front of Liar, already considered “the” must-see Quebecois comedy of Summer 2025—just a year after the success of Our Beautiful Sisters (which grossed over $3.5 million at the box office)?
Indeed, this latest film by Émile Gaudreault offers a broad palette of humor styles, capable of satisfying every taste. Known as one of the most skillful creators of popular comedy films in Québec, Gaudreault has demonstrated range from the best—such as Night of the Wedding, Mambo Italiano, Fathers and Cops—to the less memorable—like The Real and the Fake… Let’s admit it, you probably forgot that one!
In addition to directing Liar, Gaudreault co-writes the script with Éric K. Boulianne and Sébastien Ravary.
Liar is a film that toggles between moments of sharp wit and outright silliness, interweaving various degrees of wackiness throughout, along with a colorful array of witty lines. Above all, it’s generally entertaining—rarely dull and often hilarious.
In fact, some critics argue it even surpasses its predecessor, Liar, which may now linger in the back of your mind as a distant memory since the pandemic turned the world upside down. If you’d like to revisit it, know that Liar is available on platforms like ICI TOU.TV EXTRA, Crave, and Netflix, among others.
Was it a stretch to follow up Liar with a “female-led” sequel after six years? Absolutely. It seems to be a calculated move to capitalize on the smashing success of the original from summer 2019, which pulled in over 6 million dollars in box office receipts.
The film’s success was probably boosted by a certain “ingredient” that’s hardly a secret—Louis-José Houde, who does not appear in this new installment. The comedian appears to have chosen to step away from the filming scene for now… but you’ll see how his absence is woven into the story.
However, the core appeal of Liar and the stellar performances of its cast more than justify its existence. The remarkable chemistry of the lead duo, Anne-Élisabeth Bossé and Antoine Bertrand, shines so brightly that it more than compensates for Louis-José Houde’s absence. Both actors portray characters who are as mature as they are mischievous teenagers, and they captivate at every appearance—numerous, by the way. Their performances alone make the movie worth the ticket price.
In Liar, Simon (Louis-José Houde) tells fibs to get out of trouble and maintain his privileges, with a bitter arrogance. In Liar (the new film), his sister-in-law Virginie (Anne-Élisabeth Bossé, exuberant), who is in love with her brother Phil (Antoine Bertrand, equally passionate), already hinted at her two-faced nature in the first film. Now, she manipulates truths to protect her friends and family, avoiding hurting anyone’s feelings, trying to make everyone feel good.
In both movies, our Pinocchios see their exaggerations literally come to life when their lies materialize. And in both cases, the plots tend to spiral into multiversal chaos, as reality begins to merge with alternate dimensions, often with increasingly surreal consequences.
What makes Liar particularly captivating is that this surreal aspect evolves into a complex interplay of suspense and drama, creating a level of fascination about how the characters will escape their predicaments. While the original centered heavily on a single protagonist with peripheral side characters (though Bossé and Bertrand were very prominent), Liar truly focuses on two very likable anti-heroes—Virginie and Phil—with strong supporting characters that help propel their antics. Actors like Catherine Chabot, Monika Pilon, Véronique Le Flaguais, Luc Senay, Rémy Girard, Pierrette Robitaille, and Martin Drainville each steal scenes at different moments.
Since Virginie lies a lot—a behavior gradually explained as the story unfolds—the plot teems with references to self-sufficient homes, political activism, Ti-Gus and Ti-Mousse (Quebecois nicknames), a drama queen, a sister craving attention, an unresolved 25-year-old divorce, family grudges, wokism, a rapper, an airhead, and even cocaine…
As expected, the narrative rapidly spirals out of control! Dialogues and unexpected twists bounce back and forth like a ping-pong game—sometimes the momentum falters, but it always regains steam.
You’ve probably guessed it—Liar is a classic American-style comedy: whimsical, with exaggerated situations and shake-ups as big as Texas, actor expressions pushed to the max, some gags that may seem silly, others surprisingly touching, and feel-good moments that are predictable from a mile away. Think Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan swapping mother/daughter roles in Freaky Friday, or Adam Sandler using a magic remote to speed up or rewind years in Click. These quintessential family blockbusters, in essence, define Liar in 2019, and that’s still true in 2025 with Liar.
Pure, candy-coated entertainment—a popcorn movie—light-hearted laughs of the familiar genre—Québec rarely produces such straightforward fun, often rooted in gritty realism. More of these films are needed, even if just to draw crowds to theaters and spark some interest in a wider audience. However, comedy isn’t an exact science, and few—besides Gaudreault—dare to dive into it without reservations.
With its greater potential to gather diverse audiences than the light-hearted Two Women in Gold (which has already surpassed $500,000 domestically since late May), Liar is poised to win over a few viewers this summer.
Sincerely!
And guess what? The ending of Liar seems to set the stage for a third installment. Imagine Catherine Chabot teaming up with Tibetan monks—the architects of Simon’s (from Liar) and Virginie’s (from Liar) elaborate lies… We won’t say more!
The film Liar is currently playing in theaters near you.
