I would need a dozen hands to count the times that fandoms have turned against the very property they claim to love. Star Wars has had the worst of it by far, but since Endgame gave the Marvel Cinematic Universe a near-perfect ending, there have been rampant criticisms about how Disney and Marvel have handled the series’ continuation. And many of those complaints have been far more warranted than the majority of fandom chatter in the age of the internet.
Deadpool & Wolverine, which acts both as a sequel to 20th Century Fox’s first two Deadpool films (released in 2016 and 2018) and a wrap-up to Fox’s X-Men universe, brings Ryan Reynolds’ irreverent and hyper-violent Merc with a Mouth into the Marvel Cinematic Universe proper, connecting the continuity of his two films to the overall MCU through the power of the multiverse (a concept audiences are definitely still invigorated and excited by). It harnesses Deadpool’s trademark fourth-wall-breaking ability to directly acknowledge the criticism heaped onto the MCU in the last five years while being an exception in itself – 2024 is the first year since 2012 where only one MCU movie has hit the big screen (excepting 2020, of course).
The thought process seems to be the dreaded “If we point out what people are saying about our universe, we’re in on the joke and that makes it all okay!” line of thinking, and that never bodes well for a cinematic universe. Yes, that’s Deadpool’s gimmick, but in a movie of this size, scale, and budget, speaking to your audience in that way feels almost patronizing and overly glib. Then again, this movie is going to make $500 million, so Marvel is bound to learn all the wrong lessons from this.
I apologize if I sound embittered. I was honestly very excited when I settled into a theater seat to watch Deadpool & Wolverine – I love Marvel, I love movies, and I love having fun at the movies – and my excitement hadn’t changed much as the credits rolled. But as I drove home, everything I had just seen over the past two hours began silently leaking out of my brain. When I saw my parents as I pulled into my driveway, they asked me how the movie was, and I responded that I honestly couldn’t say. I struggled to untangle coherent thoughts from my ever-busy noggin, but nothing emerged until I sat down to put my thoughts into words.

One of my favorite parts about writing reviews of new releases is that I get to discover new depths of my opinions – I guide myself through my own thoughts, transcribing them into letters and words that take on more tangible meaning as they arrange themselves on a digital page. I love it even more when something I began as one thing organically becomes another. Case in point, this is a review of Deadpool & Wolverine, the latest film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, that follows Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) as he seeks to save his world from certain destruction along with a sullen Logan Howlett, also known as Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), but this is also an indictment of what movies absolutely should not become. This is a cameo-fest, heaven for the nerds (a term used affectionately) who are constantly searching every frame and line of dialogue for references to their favorite comics and characters, and I’m concerned that if it’s successful enough, it will send the wrong message – the people in charge will assume that “people want to see more of this and only this,” and that sets a bad precedent for the future. That’s hyperbolic, and I am not saying that Deadpool & Wolverine should bomb because of it, but what I am saying is that this film showcases everything wrong with the headspace behind modern franchise filmmaking. It’s hardly a new take, but we have to be careful. Not everything should be a sea of fan service and nonsensical plotting purely for shits and giggles.
The more I write, the more pessimistic I get. Maybe it’s the pretentious “film bro” within me talking, and maybe I should be grateful. Unlike much of the straight-to-streaming slop from the past few years, Deadpool & Wolverine has personality imbued within, a few solid jokes, and two leads with palpable chemistry. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that while the film itself is entertaining, and rather fun while you’re watching it, I’m concerned about what it stands for.
At the very beginning of the film (no spoilers, I promise!), Wade is listless, forced to take a job at a car dealership after a lack of hero opportunities and rejection from the Avengers. He’s down on his luck, but he’s accepted his new life, thinking that his days as Deadpool are fully behind him. Perhaps this is what Marvel assumes will happen if there’s a lack of superhero content, and they are showing it to us in the guise of entertainment as a warning, like it’s something they’re saving us from by continuing to churn out comic book movies.
Even if you don’t take into account its lack of rewatch value, Deadpool & Wolverine will not stand the test of time. It still has plenty of the self-referential meta humor that Deadpool has become known for on the big screen, but under Disney, while there might be more freedom here than is typically afforded to superhero movies, there’s a distinct lack of willingness to poke fun at itself, something the first two Deadpools reveled in. Deadpool & Wolverine has too much on its shoulders, not just continuing Wade’s story but also acting as a farewell to the Fox superhero universe (including X-Men, Daredevil, and Fantastic Four) – even, disturbingly, celebrating its demise under the veil of a tribute. A behind-the-scenes reel with clips from nearly every property formerly under Fox’s control plays over the credits, and that almost won me over, but it still feels oddly smug.
Apart from not being visually or stylistically distinctive from your standard superhero flick, I will admit that Deadpool & Wolverine is a crowd-pleaser; in fact, it feels engineered to do so. Its plethora of cameos turns it into exactly what many assumed Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness would be, and it’s very clear to me that everyone involved is having a blast. It’s useless to say this is the “death knell of the MCU” – not only because it’s been said a hundred times before, but we all know it’s going to keep going no matter what. If anything, this movie is a forceful reminder of exactly that.

Should I be worried about the future of filmmaking? Is Deadpool & Wolverine not a bad omen for its own franchise, but of non-franchise moviemaking in general? I don’t know the answer to any of those questions quite yet, but I’m sure if the people behind this movie have their way, original concepts are well and truly fucked. (I’m allowed to say that because this is an R-rated movie. Swearing is allowed, even encouraged – in fact, in D&W, it feels like there was a quota for “maximum curse words per minute”)
I had fun while I was watching it. Isn’t that what counts? I can’t say it’s going to stay with me, nor can I promise I will ever watch it again. It lacks the pathos of Logan, and the endearingly sardonic spirit that made its two predecessors memorable, but there are some good jokes. I laughed. I didn’t think about our disastrous world for two straight hours. I enjoyed snacking on my small popcorn and Junior Mints while watching Deadpool dismember nameless, faceless goons with Wolverine’s adamantium skeleton. And isn’t that exactly the reason we go to the movies?
Deadpool & Wolverine is playing in theaters now.


Leave a comment