Deadpool is as much a revelry of the comic book genre as it is a film that tries so desperately to escape the trappings of its narrative arc. Ryan Reynolds stars as Wade Wilson/Deadpool in what is most definitely the best performance he’s ever given. If the superhero had any chance of working as a stand-alone character in his own film, it needed a great actor with amazing comedic timing and self-aware writing. We had some good writers in Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, the writers of Zombieland (as well as GI: Joe: Retaliation, but we’ll overlook that one), but there was always doubt about whether or not Ryan Reynolds could pull off that charm. Thankfully, there’s no worry to be had here; Reynolds will be the actor you think of when Deadpool comes to mind for the foreseeable future.
Superhero fatigue may or may not be a thing, but this quippy Superhero comedy is here to try, not entirely succeeding at jumping out of those cliches though. Deadpool is, without a doubt, the most crass superhero to have ever been unleashed onto the big screen. Reynolds, along with the writers, jump along from scene to scene with a pile of the most absurd, horrific, and (mostly) hilarious dialogue in a very long time. Every quip comes from a place of fun and immaturity, yet suits the character and the film’s sense of humor along with it. Even if you weren’t to find the movie entertaining, it would be hard to come up with an argument where you were to dissuade me from thinking that everyone wasn’t having a lot of fun making it. And that fun translates to the screen with every moment of self reference and meta jokes about the comic book movies with which it’s connected to.
If there’s ever been a problem with big R-rated comedies, (and let’s be real, this is a comedy, not an action movie) it’s how many jokes actually work, compared to how many were delivered. And only about half of them were either laugh out loud funny or mildly clever enough to make me smirk. The writers (or the true heroes of the movie as they are referred to in the inspired opening credits sequence) are able to deliver some great laughs, but it’s hard to feel like they’re entirely great in a movie jam-packed with them. It’s a movie where nearly every demographic has a chance to get a chance to be offended, (women most definitely among them, despite a pretty great pegging joke) and it most definitely will for some. However, hopefully the heart of the movie will be apparent enough for those who care to look after hearing Reynolds spout about being molested and sharing condoms with his various family members.
Speaking of offensive, Deadpool can pretend that it wants to transcend the sexism of most superhero movies, but the lack of back story or general interest in anything else but being a love interest, Morena Baccarin‘s character as Wilson’s fiancée is terribly underwritten. Deadpool’s roommate, Blind Al, a blind black woman is only ever treated as, well, a blind black woman. T.J Miller‘s Weasel may be the only other character that contends to be fleshed out, only for the reason that he is able to keep up with Wilson’s brand of frenetic comedy. Not that the movie doesn’t have any, somewhat, empowering moments. Negasonic Teenage Warhead (played with a wondrously brilliant sense of indifference by Brianna Hildebrand) is an absolutely fantastic addition to the film and a vicious callout to what is probably a good portion of the audience as a teenager too bothered to be aware of anything around her.
The villains really aren’t that interesting and threatening in the slightest. The further the movie goes on, the more it starts to really exemplify how it really is the movie it makes fun of during its opening credits. Ed Skrein is pathetically bland as Ajax, a somewhat menacing figure that is responsible for Wilson’s disfigurement and mutant powers. There’s also his sidekick played by Gina Carano, who exemplifies her MMA roots – in what seems to be her only trait as an actress in any movie – in need of a skilled female badass. Nearly every single character is boring in comparison to the gleeful abandon of political correctness that is Deadpool. Whether that’s a knock to the characters of Deadpool, or praise of Reynolds’ performance, I say why not both.
For a film that involves graphic displays of violence and immaturity, it’s a surprise to see the lack of imagination in the action department of the movie. After movies like John Wick, The Raid 1 & 2, and Mad Max: Fury Road, the movie really needed to step its game up in terms of quality graphic violence. There’s even a reference to one of Paul Verhoeven’s masterpieces, Robocop, yet it can’t take any inspiration from the insanity from that film. It may be unfair to compare it to some of the greatest action films of all time, but the pacing of Deadpool really dies down when the action is stepped up and the jokes take a backseat.
And that pacing really is what holds this film together. The third act, an action heavy third, falls apart due to its lack of the charm in its first two thirds. Without the comedy that made it so great beforehand, it resembles a by-the-book superhero film with the atypical action beats you would see time and time again. The fatigue really starts to hit by that point of the film, but it thankfully ends on a great note with enjoyable end credits and a pitch perfect post credits teaser.
First time director, Tim Miller, and the rest of the cast and crew nearly hit it out of the park with this delightfully profane and foul-mouthed adaptation of the comic book with the same name. The writing is fun, the running time of 108 minutes is the perfect amount of time for us to not lose interest, until it does. But this is first and foremost, just plain fun. Deadpool is the starring vehicle Hollywood promised us when Ryan Reynolds was being pushed down our throats. This might be the one time we forget to listen to Deadpool when he says “Don’t swallow.”