Snikt, Snikt, Boom
I don’t know how to feel about Marvel Studios these days. It’s not due to superhero fatigue, a concept that’s been proven wrong for years. I’m more than okay with the snide nihilism of The Boys, the gleeful anarchy of Harley Quinn, the meatheaded sincerity of Peacemaker, and more. When online commenters bash “capeshit,” I just shrug, since I can’t take seriously people who are willing to dismiss the entirety of the superhero genre.*
When a chunk of the comics and a chunk of the MCU worked, it was because they successfully focused on tone and character. For tone, consider that Captain America: The Winter Soldier isn’t a superhero movie, it’s a political conspiracy thriller that involves a superhero. Ant-Man is a heist comedy that involves a superhero. That willingness to stretch the genre meant that the MCU was a world where anything could happen, where galactic adventure could comfortably coexist with high school drama. “Was” being the operative word, since a lot of late-period MCU fare simply became superhero movies with slight variations. Too often the tone is the same. Their quips are the same. Their trauma is the same. Their motivations are the same.
As far as character is concerned, what the first Iron Man film did well was to focus on the character of Tony Stark. We met a callow young (relatively) man who both ran a weapons manufacturing company and never needed to deal with the morality of his business. That is, until he was forced to. We saw Stark go through an honest to God character arc, and the film focused on telling a strong Iron Man story that made us care about the character. There was a smidge of connective tissue teasing a wider world, but it served as an effective after-dinner mint. Compare that to a film like Eternals, which juggled too many characters, too many historical epochs, and narratively slammed the brakes on the movie to excitedly point out the Black Knight, Blade, Starfox, and Pip the troll.** Those were characters that had virtually nothing to do with the narrative, the protagonists, or their immediate world.
So how do you fix the MCU? Can you fix the MCU? Deadpool & Wolverine is an excellent start, in which Marvel Studio’s recent disappointments are roundly mocked, 20th Century Fox’s superhero slate is bid a fond farewell, and within a blizzard of cameos and dick jokes is something that, if you squint, looks a little like sincerity.
We’re reintroduced to one Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds). He used to be a mercenary. He fell in love with Vanessa (Morena Baccarin), since her crazy matched his crazy. He got cancer, got experimented on, gained a superhuman healing factor, the ability to not only break the fourth wall but light it on fire, and a face reminiscent of very old pudding. He became Deadpool, the merc with a mouth.
After all that, Wade gained vengeance on the people who experimented upon him. He rekindled his relationship with Vanessa, gained his cocaine-adoring roommate Blind Al (Leslie Uggams), became buddy-buddy with a few of the X-Men, became frenemies with a time traveler, helped set a troubled teen on a positive path, got ripped in half by the Juggernaut, and borrowed/stole the time traveler’s device to “fix” a few minor things in the past.
He should be on cloud nine, so why is Deadpool in kind of a rut? The mercenary game seems to have dried up, and now Wade sells cars. His relationship with Vanessa is on the rocks, but at least she shows up to his birthday party. Things become considerably less festive when Wade is abducted by the Time Variance Authority. He’s told by Mr. Paradox (Matthew Macfadyen) that his timeline is slowly but surely dying. Why? Each timeline has an “anchor being,” a person who holds the whole thing together simply by existing. The anchor being in Wade’s timeline bit the big one, and that being is James Howlett, a.k.a. Logan, a.k.a. Wolverine (Hugh Jackman).
So, that sucks. But perhaps not! Wade has a brilliant plan that’s one hundred percent sort of likely to succeed. He’ll just pop over to another timeline, borrow another Wolverine, and plug him in to save his timeline. Only…it doesn’t work like that. While Paradox attempts to bring the Time Ripper online, a gizmo designed to mercy kill defective timelines, Wade and Logan must attempt to a) save Wade’s timeline, b) not get killed by Cassandra Nova (Emma Corrin), the dangerously deranged sister to one Charles Xavier, and c) not murder each other. Easy, right?
Let’s put all of our kinetically-charged cards on the table, shall we? Perhaps the most shallow reasons I enjoyed Deadpool & Wolverine is that a) it was very funny, b) at two hours and seven minutes, it was a reasonable length, and c) it didn’t try to set up aspects of the future of the MCU that may never come to pass.*** While it’s not necessarily the most skilled blockbuster/MCU entry, it is made with sneaky intelligence. Director Shawn Levy (and producer Kevin Feige) are keenly aware that the MCU requires some tweaking. The best way to start doing that is to lovingly drag the living hell out of the MCU, and that’s precisely what Levy has done.
Levy’s direction is, for the most part, nimble and clever. I particularly liked an early sequence where Wade skips between timelines as he attempts to abduct a Wolverine. It has real Chuck Jones “Duck Amuck” kind of energy. The action sequences are just as creative, and Levy has both a fun riff on Oldboy and a wild fight almost totally contained within a minivan. While the energy during the climax lags a little, Levy’s made a film that, by and large, feels like anything could happen. That unpredictability is just what was needed.
Unpredictability is something that…um…I would not have predicted on a film with five credited screenwriters. When I saw writing credits for Levy, Ryan Reynolds, Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, and Zeb Wells, I thought that while they’re all talented, we had a too-many-cooks kind of scenario. Luckily, that was not the case! Like the other two Deadpool movies, we’re hit by a blizzard of gags and pop culture references. Buried underneath is insightful characterization about two deeply damaged men, one driven by sorrow, the other rage. It’s always been the case that Deadpool is the trickier character to write. Logan’s a deeply angry guy. He’s angry about his guilt, about his loss, probably about his breakfast. You don’t need to be Berthold Brecht to figure that one out. The flip side is Wade, someone who positively wallows in sadness, whether it’s his shaky relationship, place in the world, or disfigurement. He tries far too hard to wallpaper over all of it with silliness. Blockbusters in general and superhero movies in particular are not known for portraying nuanced characters. I’m happy that, while these characters might not have a full three dimensions, at least an effort is made.
We’re lucky to have actors that understand those dimensions and can play them effectively. So far, nobody else has played Deadpool prominently other than Ryan Reynolds, and I’m hard pressed to think of a better fusion between a pre-existing character and an actor.**** Reynolds is a genuinely skilled actor, and he nails the physicality, the motormouthed schtick, and the occasional moments of pathos with ease. I get the sense that Wade Wilson is the only role he deeply cares about these days. That’s probably why, since Reynolds blew up after the first Deadpool film, he’s mostly played variations of the character.***** Hugh Jackman has been playing Wolverine for twenty-four years now. He knows the clawed Canuck inside and out, and that helps him to play a different side, one where Logan is by and large a loser. He can still claw the bejeezus out of people like nobody’s business, but rather than bruised nobility, he carries the stink of failure. Those choices mean that Reynolds and Jackman create a fun buddy cop chemistry, but their secret is that these two guys slightly hate themselves more than they hate each other.
I don’t know if Deadpool & Wolverine will save the MCU. I don’t know if the MCU can or should be saved, or if it should gracefully end. What I do know is that this film is going to make enough money to enrich several timelines, and that I had a genuine blast with it.
*When I see comments complaining about superhero movies from people I know, I always smile and think, “I see you, I love you, and I don’t care.”
**Seriously, that is a for-real character.
***All I’m saying is that Mahershala Ali signed a contract to play the vampire hunter Blade in 2019.
****I don’t count Wesley Snipes as Blade or Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man because both characters were very much blank slates in the comics. Since those initial performances, the characters are now fundamentally associated with those actors.
*****Check him out in the claustrophobic thriller Buried, and you’ll see Reynolds working his ass off for a rock-solid performance.