When Fox Studios released the first Deadpool movie back in 2016, it played like an irreverently funny antidote to our collective comic-book-movie fatigue. Wade Wilson, or Deadpool, was a foul-mouthed mercenary who obliterated his enemies and the fourth wall with the same gonzo energy.
Again and again, Deadpool turned to the camera and mocked the clichés of the superhero movie with such deadpan wit, you almost forgot you were watching a superhero movie. And Ryan Reynolds, Hollywood’s snarkiest leading man, might have been engineered in a lab to play this vulgar vigilante. I liked the movie well enough, though one was plenty; by the time Deadpool 2 rolled around in 2018, all that self-aware humor had started to seem awfully self-satisfied.
Now we have a third movie, Deadpool & Wolverine, which came about through some recent movie-industry machinations. When Disney bought Fox a few years ago, Deadpool, along with other mutant characters from the X-Men series, officially joined the franchise juggernaut known as the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
That puts the new movie in an almost interesting bind. It tries to poke fun at its tortured corporate parentage; one of the first things Deadpool says is “Marvel’s so stupid.” But now the movie also has to fit into the narrative parameters of the MCU. It tries to have it both ways: brand extension disguised as a satire of brand extension.
It’s also an odd-couple comedy, pairing Deadpool with the most famous of the X-Men: Logan, or Wolverine, the mutant with the unbreakable bones and the retractable metal claws, played as ever by a bulked-up Hugh Jackman.
The combo makes sense, and not just because both characters are Canadian. In earlier movies, Deadpool often made Wolverine the off-screen butt of his jokes. Both Deadpool and Wolverine are essentially immortal, their bodies capable of self-regenerating after being wounded. Both are tormented by past failures and are trying to redeem themselves. Onscreen, the two have a good, thorny chemistry, with Jackman’s brooding silences contrasting nicely with Reynolds’ mile-a-minute delivery.
I could tell you more about the story, but only at the risk of incurring the wrath of studio publicists who have asked critics not to discuss the plot or the movie’s many, many cameos. Let’s just say that the director Shawn Levy and his army of screenwriters bring the two leads together through various rifts in the multiverse. Yes, the multiverse, that ever-elastic comic-book conceit, with numerous Deadpools and Wolverines from various alternate realities popping up along the way.
I suppose it’s safe to mention that Matthew Macfadyen, lately of Succession, plays some kind of sinister multiverse bureaucrat, while Emma Corrin, of The Crown, plays a nasty villain in exile. It’s all thin, derivative stuff, and the script’s various wink-wink nods to other shows and movies, from Back to the Future to Furiosa to The Great British Bake Off, don’t make it feel much fresher. And Levy, who previously directed Reynolds in the sci-fi comedies Free Guy and The Adam Project, doesn’t have much feel for the splattery violence that is a staple of the Deadpool movies. There’s more tedium than excitement in the characters’ bone-crunching, crotch-stabbing killing sprees, complete with corn-syrupy geysers of blood.
For all its carnage, its strenuous meta-humor and an R-rated sensibility that tests the generally PG-13 confines of the MCU, Deadpool & Wolverine does strive for sincerity at times. Some of its cameos and plot turns are clearly designed to pay tribute to Fox’s X-Men films from the early 2000s.
As a longtime X-Men fan myself, I’m not entirely immune to the charms of this approach; there’s one casting choice, in particular, that made me smile, almost in spite of myself. It’s not enough to make the movie feel like less of a self-cannibalizing slog, though I suspect that many in the audience, who live for this kind of glib fan service, won’t mind. Say what you will about Marvel — I certainly have — but it isn’t nearly as stupid as Deadpool says it is.
Transcript
DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. In the new Marvel Comics-inspired movie "Deadpool And Wolverine," Ryan Reynolds revisits his role as the wise-cracking antihero Deadpool, while Hugh Jackman returns as the fiercely brooding Wolverine from the "X-Men" films. Our critic Justin Chang says the new movie is as rude and crude as its target audience will want and expect but that it also offers a few nuggets of nostalgia for old-school X-Men fans. Here's Justin's review.
JUSTIN CHANG, BYLINE: When Fox Studios released the first "Deadpool" movie back in 2016, it played like an irreverently funny antidote to our collective comic book movie fatigue. Wade Wilson, or Deadpool, was a foul-mouthed mercenary who obliterated his enemies and the fourth wall with the same gonzo energy. Again and again, he turned to the camera and mocked the cliches of the superhero movie with such deadpan wit, you almost forgot you were watching a superhero movie. And Ryan Reynolds, Hollywood's snarkiest leading man, might have been engineered in a lab to play this vulgar vigilante.
I liked the movie well enough, though one was plenty. By the time "Deadpool 2" rolled around in 2018, all that self-aware humor had started to seem awfully self-satisfied. Now we have a third movie, "Deadpool And Wolverine," which came about through some recent movie industry machinations. When Disney bought Fox a few years ago, Deadpool, along with other mutant characters from the X-Men series, officially joined the franchise juggernaut known as the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
That puts the new movie in an almost interesting bind. It tries to poke fun at its tortured corporate parentage. One of the first things Deadpool says is. Marvel's so stupid. But now the movie also has to fit into the narrative parameters of the MCU. It tries to have it both ways - brand extension disguised as a satire of brand extension. It's also an odd couple comedy, pairing Deadpool with the most famous of the X-Men, Logan - or Wolverine - the mutant with the unbreakable bones and the retractable metal claws, played, as ever, by a bulked-up Hugh Jackman. The combo makes sense and not just because both characters are Canadian.
In earlier movies, Deadpool often made Wolverine the off-screen butt of his jokes. Both Deadpool and Wolverine are essentially immortal, their bodies capable of self-regenerating after being wounded. Both are tormented by past failures and are trying to redeem themselves. On screen, the two have a good thorny chemistry, with Jackman's brooding silences contrasting nicely with Reynolds' mile-a-minute delivery. In this scene, set in an abandoned diner, where Wolverine is making a racket, Deadpool teases him about the fact that he's now wearing his famous yellow X-Men suit from the comics, something he hasn't done in previous movies.
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE")
RYAN REYNOLDS: (As Deadpool) So what made you finally wear an honest-to-God costume? Mine's red so they can't see me bleed. But I could see how yellow would be useful, too.
HUGH JACKMAN: (As Wolverine) Have you been checked for ADHD?
REYNOLDS: (As Deadpool) Mm-mm (ph). But I've had several STDs, which were probably caused by ADHD.
CHANG: I could tell you more about the story but only at the risk of incurring the wrath of studio publicists, who have asked critics not to discuss the plot or the movie's many, many cameos. Let's just say that the director, Shawn Levy, and his army of screenwriters bring the two leads together through various rifts in the multiverse - yes, the multiverse, that ever-elastic comic book conceit - with numerous Deadpools and Wolverines from various alternate realities popping up along the way. I suppose it's safe to mention that Matthew Macfadyen, lately of "Succession," plays some kind of sinister multiverse bureaucrat, while Emma Corrin of "The Crown" plays a nasty villain in exile.
It's all thin, derivative stuff. And the script's various wink-wink nods to other shows and movies - from "Back To The Future" to "Furiosa" to "The Great British Bake off" - don't make it feel much fresher. And Levy, who previously directed Reynolds in the sci-fi comedies "Free Guy" and "The Adam Project," doesn't have much feel for the splattery (ph) violence that is a staple of the Deadpool movies. There's more tedium than excitement in the characters' bone-crunching, crotch-stabbing killing sprees, complete with corn-syrupy geysers of blood.
For all its carnage, its strenuous meta-humor and an R-rated sensibility that tests the generally PG-13 confines of the MCU, "Deadpool And Wolverine" does strive for sincerity at times. Some of its cameos and plot turns are clearly designed to pay tribute to Fox's "X-Men" films from the early 2000s. As a longtime "X-Men" fan myself, I'm not entirely immune to the charms of this approach. There's one casting choice in particular that made me smile almost in spite of myself. It's not enough to make the movie feel like less of a self-cannibalizing slog, though I suspect that many in the audience who live for this kind of glib fan service won't mind. Say what you will about Marvel - I certainly have - but it isn't nearly as stupid as Deadpool says it is.
BIANCULLI: Justin Chang is a film critic for The New Yorker. He reviewed "Deadpool And Wolverine." On Monday show, comic Nikki Glaser. She talks about sex so much onstage, she says she's come to think of her privates as her publics. We'll talk about why sex is a recurring subject in her act, her self-consciousness about her body and how she looks and what it's like writing insults for celebrity roasts. Her recent roast of Tom Brady made headlines. I hope you can join us.
(SOUNDBITE OF ALLISON MILLER'S "WELCOME HOTEL")
BIANCULLI: FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Herzfeld and Charlie Kaier. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Amy Salit, Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Sam Briger, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Thea Chaloner, Susan Nyakundi, Joel Wolfram and Heidi Saman. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper. For Terry Gross and Tonya Mosley, I'm David Bianculli.
(SOUNDBITE OF ALLISON MILLER'S "WELCOME HOTEL") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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