Director Shawn Levy reunites Logan and Wade Wilson for "Deadpool & Wolverine." Emma Corrin and Matthew Macfadyen join the MCU as top-notch villains. Review.
Deadpool & Wolverine has come to save us (and Disney's Marvel Cinematic Universe) from superhero fatigue. After flops like The Marvels and Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, that is not just the studio's hope but an actual plot point in this Deadpool 2 sequel.
In act one, the Merc with a Mouth proudly proclaims himself the MCU's messiah or "Marvel Jesus," destined to return this formerly world-conquering franchise to unquestionable glory. But can a sequel saturated with IP and blatant fan service truly shake off the baggage Kevin Feige's MCU has accumulated across 30-plus films and assorted TV shows?
To its credit, Deadpool & Wolverine does a lot to claw Disney's expanded MCU library back into fans' hearts. Reuniting the star power of Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman, Deadpool & Wolverine brings scads of satisfying spectacle and welcome surprises to the big screen, along with a gleeful barrage of cameos, an avalanche of action, and a slew of R-rated jokes and f-bombs. Plus, it's just really fucking fun. But past all the pomp and fourth-wall-breaking is Disney's creeping influence on Marvel's most outrageous movie hero.
Superhero sequels mean retconning, and Deadpool & Wolverine uses this handy storytelling device to situate its narrative after the events of Deadpool, Deadpool 2, and Logan. So, when an overstepping Time Variance Authority agent dubbed Mr. Paradox (a deliciously deranged Matthew Macfadyen) threatens the existence of Wade "Deadpool" Wilson's universe, the quick-witted vigilante (Reynolds) hijacks TVA tech to seek out a non-dead Wolverine (Jackman) to save the day.
This leads to a wonderfully bonkers montage in which Jackman reprises the role of Wolverine over and over, bringing to life a variety of comic incarnations not previously seen onscreen. But things go from team-up to trouble when Deadpool and his kidnapped Wolverine are pitched into the TVA's wasteland. There, forgotten variants fight for survival, a clever means of resurrecting a terrific series of past Marvel characters, from the goofy to the iconic. But it also means the oft-brawling buds have to face off against Charles Xavier's evil twin sister, Cassandra Nova (a wonderfully wicked and slinky Emma Corrin). Cassandra Nova has all kinds of deadly telekinetic powers, but she truly relishes probing her long, slender fingers INTO the brains of her lessers. And to her, everyone is a lesser.
Through this setup, the fleet of screenwriters — which is comprised of Reynolds, Deadpool scribes Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, as well as Zeb Wells and Deadpool & Wolverine director Shawn Levy — has seemingly free reign to loop in Marvel heroes and villains for a zany and convoluted adventure that actually has a budget.
Levy, who previously helmed the Reynolds-led, video game-inspired action-comedy Free Guy, realizes what audiences want most out Deadpool & Wolverine and delivers plenty of it. Reynolds is as comfortable as ever in the snug-fitting supersuit of his wise-cracking antihero, firing off snarky asides as freely and frequently as bullets. But while Reynolds' reliable schtick will please Deadpool fans, Jackman steadily runs away with this movie — sometimes on all fours!
Over the course of nearly 30 years, Jackman has satisfyingly flexed and glowered and gone battle-mode berserk as Wolverine, finding fresh textures of rage, regret, and tenderness along the way. That he didn't get an Oscar nomination for Logan remains a cinematic injustice. But there's a fresh victory in seeing the 55-year-old action star unsheathe those adamantium claws once again, as gruff and lovable as ever.
The comic sharpness to their interplay is classic vaudeville, with Deadpool as the buffoon and Wolverine the straight man. But far more intense than the slapstick between such a comedic duo are the fights; this pugnacious pair repeatedly full-on brawls with each other. Freed from the constraints of a PG-13 rating, these heroes hit hard, blood and brain matter spraying and spattering in R-rated gouts. There's some great exchanges here, both verbally and violently. At times, the packed theater whooped in child-like anticipation as they squared off. Their intense interplay alone will likely put a big dumb grin on your face, as it did mine.
But while the opening action scene is a gruesome delight, blending the best bits of Deadpool's irreverence and ultra-violence, Levy runs out of ideas as the movie goes along — and the action suffers. For instance, the running gag from past Deadpool movies where brutal actions scenes are set to femme pop songs (Juice Newton's "Angel of the Morning," for instance) becomes tired. Levy's choices — which include bangers like Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris" and Avril Lavigne's "I'm with You" — feel disconnected not because of their tone or lyrics (though they are) but because the choreography and edit have no shared musicality. It feels like any millennial-beloved pop jam could have served just as well.
Beyond the titular twosome, a bevy of exciting characters do battle in this sequel, though the success in execution is wildly uneven. Some will get hero moments, where their signature weapon gets its big boom. Others will get a close-up savoring a smirk or a sneer. However, the actual action sequences lack vision and cohesion, so they become a barrage of blows with diminishing returns. Some of it is hard to follow; some of it is just repetitive. At one point, when a flood of variant Deadpools do battle, it's difficult to make out where our Deadpool is in the fray. The action begins to actually undermine the experience as Levy gets in over his head.
Logan and Deadpool — which were both rated R — pushed the superhero genre out of its comfort zone by embracing elements intended only for "mature" audiences, including sex, gore, drug use, and curse words. Their similarly R-rated team-up features a lot of these same taboo elements. And yet, upon reflection, I marvel less at what they got away with and more at what they shied away from.
For instance, as teased in trailers, there will be jokes about cocaine — Blind Al's vice of choice — but no drug use will be done onscreen save for Wolverine chugging Jim Beam. (Birds of Prey scoffs in Disney's general direction.) There's plenty of cursing, with the word "fuck" thrown around so much it starts to feel jarringly juvenile. But amid all the violence and cursing, there's a noticeable absence of sex. Deadpool offered a whole hilarious montage with Wade and Vanessa engaging in holiday-themed sex acts. Deadpool 2 dabbled in cheeky jokes that hinted at the character being pansexual, as he was in the comics. But Deadpool & Wolverine has tamped down on the dirty jokes with a few mild exceptions, while also sidelining its other established queer characters. (Negasonic Teenage Warhead and her girlfriend Yukio are little more than cameos this time around.)
The subtle squeamishness over sex and sexuality is one thing. But considered in conjunction with half-assed punchlines about Deadpool fearing being "canceled by the woke mob" or being over "Gen Z's trauma-dumping," it seems Disney is moving the Merc with a Mouth toward conservatism. Perhaps a movie meant to to placate the same audience that gnashed their teeth over the last Star Wars trilogy's — and The Acolyte's — focus on marginalized characters over the previously predominantly white, straight, and male heroes. The jokes at the expense of Disney, Marvel, and Kevin Feige play the same way in effect. Sure, they seem initially provocative, with Deadpool calling out Marvel's missteps or Feige's rules for MCU movies. But consider how notoriously controlling these studios are over this IP. Consider Disney and Marvel's history of squelching queer representation on-screen. And you can see how Wade, who is supposed to titillate us with his unapologetic hot takes, feels less like he's breaking fresh ground and more like he's parroting the well-worn gripes of Twitter trolls.
It seems without a big studio franchise to fight against or parody, Deadpool becomes another cog in the Marvel machine.
Don't misunderstand me: I had an absolute blast watching this sequel.
Like its predecessors, it shoulders a convoluted plot that shifts from settings, timelines, and characters with a feral lack of focus. But Levy and his team pack so much entertainment into this chaotic movie that it's easy to overlook its rough bits as you're watching. If you're once more beguiled by Reynold's caustic comic persona or in awe of Jackman's burly bravado or giddy over the live-action showdown you may have imagined for decades, you won't be alone. There's pleasures aplenty in Deadpool & Wolverine, chief among them the absolutely outstanding casting that not only loops in crowd-pleasing cameos but also two — count 'em, two! — Marvel villains who are genuinely unnerving and wild fun, making the most out of every line. Honestly, Macfadyen and Corrin are reason enough to see this in theaters.
As a Deadpool movie, Deadpool & Wolverine is satisfying — it proves to be propulsive, often hilarious, and rife with thrills and surprises. But as the film that, by its own hyperbolic admission, is intended to save superhero movies from themselves, it's just okay. The action has nothing as jaw-dropping or instantly iconic as early Marvel or even the first Deadpool, which is no small matter. But more damning is that Deadpool & Wolverine doesn't feel like a course correction or a rebellion as much as another brick in the wall, building a shrine to fan service. And so expands a franchise that once offered carefree thrill rides but now requires a timeline graphic and an open wiki to follow along. (Don't do that in the theater, we beg you.)
While Deadpool & Wolverine is a wild ride that's sure to elate audiences and send fans happily down rabbit holes of lore, allusions, and showbiz news, it is also a bit of a disappointment. Once the buzz of giggling wears off, it's clear: Deadpool & Wolverine isn't here to save superhero movies. It's here to show off Disney's newly acquired IP.
