“Deadpool & Wolverine” is a franchise entry that's stuck in limbo, both from a creative and narrative standpoint. The third outing in the misadventures of Marvel's tart-tongued, cheerfully bloodthirsty troublemaker tries to pass off recycled goods as fresh new content that pokes fun at said recycled goods. It's kind of pathetic, which really isn't worth getting worked up about, but here we are.
Not to say that the first joint onscreen venture between Ryan Reynolds' motormouth mutant mercenary and Hugh Jackman's perennially scowling X-Man is awful, exactly, because it's not that. It's an unfortunate shade of mediocre, the movie equivalent of that middle-aged bachelor who comes to a singles mixer acting like Joe Cool, only the more he doubles down on the strained James Dean vibes, the more people can see right through his charade.
It doesn't hurt that the makers of this film, the first in the R-rated franchise to be made under the Marvel Cinematic Universe umbrella and away from 20th Century Fox (since rechristened 20th Century Studios by the Greedy Mouse), appear to have been granted considerable flexibility in how far to take the character's sardonic and inappropriate humor. This is a relative change of pace from the MCU's obsession with aesthetic uniformity that has irked me in the past, time and time again.
That's the good news. The bad news is that the man calling the shots is Shawn Levy, a TV vet turned purveyor of silver-screen lameness, from the high-concept “Night at the Museum” movies to the obscenely overpraised high-concept Reynolds vehicle “Free Guy.” And “Deadpool & Wolverine” is exactly the movie you would expect from the Canadian hack responsible for “Free Guy.”
Granted, this time, Levy is working from a concept that is actually a good idea: a tentpole superhero rumble refashioned as a buddy comedy. But if I've been dragging my feet about going into the story, that's because the plot, at once convoluted and half-baked, is dullsville. Life has been tough for Deadpool, aka Wade Wilson, since the violent, “Terminator 2”-flavored events of “Deadpool 2.” Years after having his application for being one of the Avengers (politely) turned down, he finds himself stuck in a rut, working as a used car salesman alongside surviving X-Force member Peter (Rob Delaney, giving off major Ted Lasso vibes).
A birthday party where he briefly reunites with now ex-girlfriend Vanessa (Morena Baccarin) takes a sudden surreal turn when soldiers in futuristic attire whisk him away to the Time Variance Authority, a timeline policing organization, existing outside time and space, that will be familiar to viewers of Marvel's “Loki” series on Disney Plus. A TVA agent who calls himself Mr. Paradox (“Succession's” Matthew Macfadyen, once again playing a slimeball) gives Wade a reality check: his own timeline has been deteriorating ever since the death of Logan, aka the Wolverine you see in James Mangold's “Logan,” and is doomed, so he could be a useful asset to the TVA. Whaddaya say?
That's right. The third “Deadpool” dips its toe in the multiverse, a chic and trendy sandbox that many recent comic book adaptations have been playing in, but Levy, who is working from a screenplay he co-wrote with Reynolds and three (!) other credited writers, chooses not to take advantage of the endless possibilities that this story engine affords him. Deadpool, being his impish, authority-defying self, plucks Paradox's timeline-hopping doohickey and starts searching for a mighty incarnation of Wolverine (Jackman) in the hopes that he can save his own timeline. So, of course, he ends up picking the one Wolverine who's the biggest screwup, a drunken reprobate crippled by guilt and self-loathing. But hey, this Wolverine wears the signature yellow and blue suit from the comics, so, um, yay, multiverse?
Just when you hope “Deadpool & Wolverine” is about to put its torrent of profane, warmed-over pop culture zingers aside to actually tell a compelling yarn, the movie hits a dead end. Literally. The bulk of “Deadpool & Wolverine” unfolds in a nether region called the Void, a postapocalyptic junkyard filled with the detritus of prior generations' popcorn entertainment. This realm at the end of time is prowled by a cloudy entity of despair that looks and acts like a stoner-hallucination variation on the Nothing from “The Neverending Story.” But the real threat in the Void is Cassandra Mora (“The Crown's” Emma Corrin), who kills anyone who gets in her way (or calls her nasty names) but who sees opportunity when she meets the new arrivals.
The Void essentially gives Levy, Reynolds and the rest of his creative team an excuse to trot out a motley crew of faces from Marvel's past. Don't worry, fanboys, I'm not spilling the beans, but maybe it's time to stop behaving like Pavlov's dogs and demand more from your big-screen superhero/mutant adventures than stunt cameos and fourth wall-breaking that wear out their welcome rather quickly. This isn't screenwriting, it's lazy spitballing. It all amounts to lipstick on a pig -- glittery, distracting lipstick.
“D&W” is neither here nor there, alternately caustic and generic. It's frustrating that Levy wants to have it both ways, delivering jabs against Disney and the MCU itself while slavishly following the very MCU formula it's satirizing. (Taika Waititi pulled off that artistic compromise more successfully in “Thor: Ragnarok.”) Its irreverence is puny, and has long passed its expiration date. On top of everything, the film also wants to be a soulful and melancholy Logan/Wolverine movie, so it is tonally being pulled in opposite directions. To be fair, Jackman does not phone it in, but it sometimes feels as if he's acting in a completely different film from Reynolds' expletive-laced clown show.
Perhaps most disappointing of all is the way the openly pansexual Deadpool is only allowed to talk about his urges, desires and fetishes without acting out on them. The new film is slightly raunchier than its predecessor, but what it serves up is still gay baiting, toothless and inconsequential, aside from a cute montage where a horny TVA employee gets handsy while helping Wade into his Deadpool suit. (It's a lot more playful and wholesome than it sounds.) Once again, there's no follow-through that feels genuinely queer. Deadpool is given ample opportunity to slice and dice his way through the movie. (The bloodletting is “gory” in a clean, antiseptic way, with copious splashes of digital blood.) But God forbid, when it comes to s-e-x, that the character be anything other than a eunuch with an erection.
“D&W” can't be completely dismissed as your basic overproduced studio cashgrab. There's more to it than hollow fan service, Easter eggs, endless references to other Marvel properties and a handful of amusing self-referential gags, mostly thanks to Jackman, who once again gives it his all in the role that catapulted him to stardom nearly 25 years ago. The movie pokes fun at his longevity in being associated with Wolverine, ribbing him by suggesting he will be playing the crabby antihero with the retractable claws well into his golden years.
But Jackman, who mixes prestige projects in between his big studio ventures, is going to be just fine. It's Reynolds who worries me. There was a point in his career where he also selected smaller projects, and was quite good in several, even if the films themselves were not. (“The Voices,” a dark comedy from “Persepolis” director Marjane Satrapi, is a notable exception, and still his finest hour.) As Deadpool, he's a star who has chosen to let himself be trapped by arrested development. “Deadpool & Wolverine” is a shrine to the obnoxious man-child screen persona he should have shed years ago. So go ahead, have your feel-good victory lap. Laugh all the way to the bank. You might soon discover it's not just your character who finds himself trapped in the MCU's Borg collective.
“Deadpool & Wolverine” is now playing in wide release, including IMAX engagements at Regal South Beach, AMC Aventura, AMC Sunset Place and the AutoNation IMAX at the Museum of Discovery and Science in Fort Lauderdale. There are also 3-D showings at several theaters in South Florida.