Deapool Wolverine

Deadpool Wolverine

My friend Louie Stowell, who writes Loki—not that one, a proper one—in books, earlier today tweeted what you would want if you were a fan. I replied, ‘New tradition, a place where you can watch any film in a franchise on its own, and it makes sense’. This is not that film.

What it is, though, is a Deadpool film, and frankly, asking for a Deadpool to be less meta is like asking for a version of Reservoir Dogs without the swearing or a young adult trilogy that doesn’t revolve around an infallible young woman choosing between a money manipulator or pursuit and emotionally stunted, which applies to these two. But I digress. In this film, Deadpool, a wisecracking anti-hero, and Wolverine, a brooding mutant with retractable claws, team up in a unique and often hilarious partnership.

It’s hard not to when reviewing a Deadpool film. Let’s be frank: I’m writing this on a Monday. You know it’s a lot of fan service, all the cameos and ambience, the in-jokes and balletic gun fu ball out on a claw and rammed down the throat death moves of mortal combat. It’s a rollercoaster of humour and entertainment that keeps you engaged throughout. 

But two things need to be covered, one nebbish and one I did not hear on any junkets.

The plot itself seems surprisingly cheap. Deadpool needs to save his friends; he recruits Wolverine in reluctant petulance mode to help him. They find themselves in largely stripped-back settings outside, only interacting for shooting and snide. They encounter a classic villain whose powers outstrip the most potent characters while being incredibly easy to defeat. It’s like she’s a walking death star with the funnel point on her forehead. Yes, I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I’ve committed to that, so fuck off.

It is relatively pacey and is set piece after set piece with laughs. But as a story, it needs to be improved. It doesn’t make sense, and the stakes are at once incredibly high but also disengaged, with the multiverse rendering mortality moot to the external observer. Although the ‘Logan gag ‘, a reference to a previous film in the Wolverine franchise, right at the start is just, fucking funny.

The bit that got me was more than the dog, the zingers, the cameos, the chemistry, and even Hugh Jackman’s short torso. 

I was a stand-up; it’s not that I’m not. It’s a lack of opportunity, but it was because I needed it back. It was me ebing an avenger. Life happened, and lockdown meant my family needed me. I’ve come out the other side, tired, fighting at times for my self-care, but ultimately, for the better, I could not return to that guy. This happens in some form to most men, including my 48-year-old self: kids, care duties, and finance. But in Wade’s case, this is authentic ennui as we start with him being offered the promotion if he sells out his community. Ok, I’m projecting, but for you, who doesn’t? It’s a throughout-the-line that holds us and made me believe that Ryan Reynolds could act…but admittedly, it’s pretty fleeting, so I’ll stick to his actions and response. And it’s that vulnerability that makes this work so well for me.

Similarly, the Wolverine failed. He has experienced failure. We have seen tragedies befall Logan before, but to have him sit in on how his undoing is genuinely different and, again, something most men, with the generation raised to internalise mythologise and self-proclaim themselves as the samurai of our tale, he seeks to turn it all back. Would that change anything? As such, he evolves. On screen. In person. With width. Because High Jackman is an actor. A fucking actor. Who acts? Have you seen Eddie? Neither have I, but I’m sure it’s great.

The film delves into what can be described as ‘middle-aged man spread of issues and male menopause ‘, a term used to describe the unique challenges and changes that men face as they age. This theme kept me engaged throughout the film, even amidst the action-packed sequences and the presence of a femme fatale character. And no, it’s not perving. She’s age-appropriate, and Ben is not here…fuck you.

Would it work as a new tradition? No. But does it work as a finale? Yes, and a fitting one, too. So check it out for two hours of angry breakup sex with Mr Darcy of your timeline and move on. But for others, it’s not really a thing to fling with.

Make mine marvel.