‘Deadpool & Wolverine’ are back in a Marvel meta-sequel
Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds star in the latest lackluster superhero flick that wants to have its cake and eat it, too
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
There are, by a conservative estimate, several hundred jokes in Deadpool & Wolverine comprising references to real-world happenings and pop culture at large. Such is the nature of a film about Deadpool, the fast-talking, fourth-wall-breaking mutant mercenary—a good chunk of those jokes are funny too, if slightly exhausting beyond a point—but the key problem with the character's threequel is that its filmmaking is similarly referential. Its action is often implied; key instances of impact are usually cut around, or away from entirely. Its drama is heavily alluded to, but rarely felt or seen. For a movie whose every frame is stuffed to the gills, it's surprisingly empty.
The Shawn Levy-directed film marks the second on-screen team-up between Ryan Reynolds' perpetually sarcastic Deadpool/Wade Wilson and Hugh Jackman's more somber Wolverine/Logan since 2009's X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but it's the first in which both fan favorites sport their colorful outfits from the pages of Marvel comics (Deadpool has worn a more muted red, while Wolverine has worn either black leather or lumberjack chic—if he’s worn a shirt at all). It's also the first foray of the once 20th Century Fox-owned X-Men characters into the Disney-run Marvel Cinematic Universe since the studios' merger in 2019, whose details may as well be gibberish to the average viewer, but is the basis for enough gags that one might come away with a working knowledge of how the movie came to be.
By contrast, the inner-workings of its story remain a mystery. The unlikely buddy team-up, made possible by Marvel's multiverse shenanigans, places Deadpool alongside a particularly self-loathing version of Wolverine, and pits them against a band of dramatically malformed outlaws in a wasteland called "the void"—from Marvel's Loki season one, episode five, as Deadpool helpfully reminds the audience—where characters from alternate realities in time and space are sent to waste away. Basically, it's where everything that isn't strictly Marvel "canon" is sent to die, so it's no wonder that these leading X-Men have ended up there and need to find their way back home.
The logistics therein are key to getting them into this realm, and to the movie providing a litany of familiar cameos, but the plot mechanics quickly overpower any semblance of actual stakes. Both characters are, after all, infinitely durable, and can heal from any injury. And when the risks are the end of the world, the universe, existence etc. (you've seen it before, so take your pick), it's hard to get invested in what is essentially a question of "Will they make more Marvel movies after this one?" when the answer is always "Yes, until you're old and grey."
This is where Deadpool & Wolverine makes overtures towards grounding its cataclysm in a sense of ethos, but it goes about it in head-scratching ways. Deadpool, in his previous two movies, has already proven there's slightly more to him than quips, and he inexplicably needs to prove it again for a third time. This time around, his family of supporting characters are his world, as he makes sure to mention numerous times. However, the likes of former flame Vanessa (Morena Baccarin), cab driver companion Dopinder (Karan Soni), and mutant pals Yukio (Shioli Kutsuna) and Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand), who had full-blown parts in previous entries, are reduced to a line or two at a birthday party before Wade is whisked away to crossover country.
Likewise, psychic villain Cassandra Nova (Emma Corin) is defined by the actions of a character from other movies, entirely off-screen, just as Wolverine's story is an echo of previous entries, now limited to exposition about people he let down. But this isn't the same man Jackman has played numerous times since 2000. That character died a noble death in Logan—if you don't remember this, fear not; Deadpool & Wolverine features plenty of "previously on" clips—and the version he plays here is, we're told, an enormous loser by comparison, though this too is a flimsy implication.
This Wolverine drinks because his fellow X-Men have died off-screen, which he believes is his fault, and he now needs to be convinced to get back in the superhero saddle, though this was exactly the case in Logan too. The movie wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to this version of Wolverine being entirely different for story purposes, yet familiar enough to viewers that he needs no re-introduction. But while Logan dramatized the character's sense of loss and grief, and of disillusionment as he wandered through a dying world, Deadpool & Wolverine has no time for such things, despite Jackman's monumentally pained and committed performance.
In a meta-textual sense, Deadpool & Wolverine has fun with the question of what it means to resurrect Logan on screen despite his death—including one delightfully mean-spirited gag in the opening scene, which leads to some inventively goofy action. Unfortunately, that's about as far as the movie gets when it comes to wrestling with his place in pop culture, or even as an icon within the fictional universe. Everyone knows his name, and there's so much heart and humor to be mined from the question of what those expectations might do to a person. But when this version of the character makes vital decisions, the movie seems to take extra efforts to have them unfold either outside the frame's confines, or behind a goofy, CGI-assisted mask that obscures his eyes and his expressions (some comic book concepts simply do not translate into live action, no matter how much ardent fans might think they want to see them on the big screen).
The only semblance of real catharsis is granted to a handful of supporting characters introduced midway through the film, whose names (and the actors playing them) would constitute "spoilers," so let your imagination run wild. These cameos are both surprising, and become imbued with the fittingly fourth-wall-breaking theme of bringing old and unfinished stories to fruition, as though Marvel head honcho Kevin Feige were running a victory lap for having had a producorial role on a few poorly received movies 20 odd years ago. Sadly, these characters' respective paths only lead to action beats and "hero shots" that don't contain nearly the kind of panache that they ought to (Hollywood directors could really learn a thing or two from their South Indian counterparts). The film is practically obsessed with cutting away to something else—a wide shot, or an entirely different scene—before any moment is capable of leaving a lasting impact.
That Deadpool & Wolverine is an eyesore was made apparent in its trailers, with the movie’s flat and muddy palette on full display. That it also flounders during every attempt to be either cool or meaningful makes it even harder to watch, as it stretches endlessly from one apparent climax to the next in search of emotional heft. Jackman is, as always, excellent at tapping into Logan's feral rage, and Reynolds' ironic intonations as Wade are practically second nature at this point. But the two actors are stuck in a movie that has no cinematic imagination or spark of mischievous craftsmanship. Everything is functional at best, geared towards presenting these comic mainstays not as people with life beyond the edges of the frame, but as familiar shapes and colors—as gestures towards stories, rather than as stories themselves.
Published on July 23, 2024
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
Siddhant Adlakha is a critic and filmmaker from Mumbai, though he now lives in New York City. They're more similar than you'd think. Find him at @SiddhantAdlakha on Twitter