Marvel. 2024. Comedy. 127 mins.
Grade: 3 out of 4
While history has yet to decide exactly how misguided Disney’s 2019 acquisition of 21st Century Fox will be, one thing is certain: two former Fox-owned Marvel superheroes whose job is to save the world have a fair shot at saving Disney CEO Bob Iger’s $71B mistake from turning into a historic screwup that accelerated the demise of moviegoing as we’ve known it for 100 years. They are, of course, Wolverine and Deadpool, who came from opposite ends of Fox’s superhero spectrum. Wolverine (introduced in director Bryan Singer’s 2000 hit, X-Men) is justifiably haunted and preternaturally grouchy, while Deadpool (introduced as a tad less chucklesome character in 2009’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine) was the opposite, a voraciously profane, sarcastic, fourth wall obliterating hunk of superheroic snarkiness and veteran of two pretty hilarious films. With both characters now under Disney ownership, the pair would seemingly make for an unlikely duo. But as with all buddy movies, opposites attract, so here comes Deadpool & Wolverine, a comedy that must succeed on its own terms while also connecting to previous Marvel content while also jumpstarting a flailing Marvel brand run aground on the dual sins of greed and excessive pride.
Those are a lot of masters to serve, and Deadpool & Wolverine cannot satisfy all of them no matter how hard it tries. And it sure does try, often exhaustingly so. Its bottomless reservoir of self-aware humor seems freewheeling but the jokes are ultimately driven by corporate imperative and desperation. Even considering Disney-owned off-shoots like Miramax, Touchstone and Hollywood Pictures, Deadpool & Wolverine is one of the most foul-mouthed and also blood-stained films Disney has ever slapped its name on. But to fans of the series (which I continue to be) one less gay-themed joke and one less drop of blood would be enough to reject the film and, by extension, be another stan-fueled nail in the coffin of Marvel CEO Kevin Feige’s struggling MCU. And so it goes as Deadpool—played once again by Ryan Reynolds, leaning harder than ever into the one note he’s been gifted by the acting gods—takes every opportunity to remind us he’s in a movie. If the character wasn’t basically charged with re-establishing the audience’s trust in Marvel, proclaiming himself “Marvel Jesus” would be the height of smug insolence. But Deadpool is nothing if not smug and insolent and self-aware lines like “Suck it, Fox. I’m going to Disney World!” and “Cocaine is the one thing Feige said is off-limits” are not only funny but they shorten the distance between film and fan which is one of the pleasures of the Deadpool series.
All of this self-satisfied humor comes at the expense of the story although at times it’s hard to discern whether this joke-and-fight factory doesn’t have enough story or if there’s too much story so it’s best to tune it out and wait for the next laugh. The better money is on the latter because from its opening scene, when Deadpool exhumes Wolverine from the grave that marked his final resting place in 2017’s Logan, Deadpool finds himself up against a powerful and prodigiously bankrolled foe: Disney+. One downside of Deadpool’s absorption into the MCU is having to share the burden of advancing Feige’s overarching master plan which has been thrown into such disarray recently that we suspect even he’s still laying the track as the train barrels towards us. Here, Deadpool is snatched by goons from the Time Variance Authority, first introduced in the not-bad Disney+ series, Loki, and brought to the headquarters of TVA middle manager, Mr. Paradox (Matthew Macfadyen, always solid). Spouting reams of gobbledygook so endless that even Deadpool comments on it, Mr. Paradox explains that Deadpool’s timeline is deteriorating and the only way to stop it is for five desperate and flailing screenwriters—Reynolds, Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Zeb Wells, and director Shawn Levy—to invent something called an “anchor being” who will somehow set things right or at least set the table for another 90 minutes of jokes. And since indecipherable nonsense has become the coin of the realm in the MCU that means Deadpool must enter the Multiverse, a burdensome concept that Marvel continues utilizing to kill, resurrect, introduce and re-introduce whatever person, place or thing will send fanboy hearts fluttering.
And if Deadpool & Wolverine has one purpose, it’s to send what’s left of Marvel’s true believers into a quasi-sexual frenzy. That means cameos and plenty of them, whether or not they make narrative sense. But first, Deadpool must travel into the Multiverse to find the “anchor being” who turns out to be any version of Wolverine willing to help him save his timeline. The one he settles on is the worst Wolverine ever, a hardened boozehound saddled with guilt and anger for destroying his own timeline including his version of the X-Men. Hugh Jackman, who has played Wolverine for almost a quarter of a century, still gives great gruff and he’s even game enough to take a joke about his personal off-screen issues (“He’s usually shirtless,” says Deadpool, “but he’s let himself go since the divorce”). Ever versatile, Jackman’s attempt to add some pathos comes off less eye-rolling than Reynold’s attempt to convince us that Deadpool really really loves his friends (including a returning and underused Morena Baccarin).
If the Multiverse was always a cheap conceit that even Deadpool admits is overused, still worse is The Void, where Deadpool and Wolverine are sent for reasons that were probably sandwiched between a couple of jokes, it’s hard to remember. A conceptual blank slate that conveniently accommodates any idea or joke the filmmakers can imagine, The Void is depicted as a vast desert littered with detritus (including an enormous 20th Century Fox logo). Its villainous overlord is Cassandra Nova whose superpower is to make us regret that The Crown’s Emma Corrin played the role and not Cate Blanchett. The Void allows for about half-a-dozen cameos from forgotten Marvel heroes which would be more exciting if their purpose went beyond making Levy’s fight scenes more chaotic and sometimes derivative (Oldboy has entered the chat), as well as, Disney shareholders rejoice, blatant fan service.
As fan service goes, the movie is about as mercenary as it gets, but it flatters us with a continuous wink that suggests no joke is too vulgar or inside baseball to earn our laughter. As such, Deadpool & Wolverine is a bit too high on its own supply and is a mess but it’s a very funny mess that achieves one unexpected objective; it reminds us how silly the MCU has become. “Welcome to the MCU,” Deadpool tells Wolverine. “You’re joining it at a bit of a low point.” Maybe that low point was worth reaching if it means Deadpool can continue making inside jokes about it.