Deadpool & Wolverine: Death of a thousand cuts

Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated R, for constant strong bloody violence, gore, relentless profanity, and crude sexual references

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.4.24

This isn’t a movie; it’s a string of crude and violent blackout sketches laced with relentless profanity and vulgar one-liners, loosely stitched to a so-called plot that’s dog-nuts even by superhero movie standards.

 

Having penetrated the Big Bad's weird lair in this aggressively deranged flick,
Wolverine (Hugh Jackman, left) and Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) realize that they
may be in over their heads...

The result is aimed squarely at arrested adolescent males and the geekiest comic book nerds ... and, judging by the opening weekend’s box office results — $438 million worldwide, shattering the previous record for an R-rated film — the folks at Marvel Studios apparently knew what they were doing.

Let’s call it a triumph of crass commercialism, while acknowledging that mainstream viewers — and even fans of the “conventional” Marvel superhero films — are advised to steer very, very clear. 

 

This gleefully atrocious burlesque wears “Tasteless” like a badge of honor. But if the wretched excess is removed — to quote Gertrude Stein — there is no there there. After the introductory title credits orgy of slashed throats, impalements, severed limbs, decapitations, gouts of blood, and relentless F-bombs, the realization that the entire film will continue in this manner, isn’t merely disheartening.

 

It’s boring. Truly.

 

The primary running joke concerns the constant squabbling and fighting between Deadpool and Wolverine, because — since both have regenerative powers — neither can be killed. Cue all manner of shooting, stabbing and bone-breaking mayhem.

 

Mildly funny the first time. Not on constant repeat.

 

Director Shawn Levy and his four co-scripters deserve mild credit for archly breaking the fourth wall and elevating meta to new heights, with foul-mouthed Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) taking cheeky real-world jabs at Disney, 20th Century Fox and all manner of pop-culture entities. It’s like a Simpsons episode on speed, and when the snarky asides and Easter Eggs arrive with such rat-a-tat intensity, some of them are bound to land. And yes, a few do.

 

But that’s pretty thin gruel, given the vehicle driving this nonsense.

 

So: The “plot,” such as it is. Fasten your seatbelts; it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

 

Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, has been trying to go straight — as a car salesman — since his previous adventures in 2018’s Deadpool 2. This effort goes awry when he’s snatched from his life on Earth 10005 by Mr. Paradox (Matthew Macfadyen), a bureaucratic agent of the Time Variance Authority (TVA), responsible for monitoring all temporal law in the Marvel Comics Universe.

 

(Yes, this is a multiverse mash-up.)

Fast Charlie: A briskly paced crime saga

Fast Charlie (2023) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated 18+, for strong bloody violence, gore and frequent profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime and other video-on-demand options

By Derrick Bang

Phillip Noyce’s résumé as a thriller director runs hot and cold; for every Quiet American and The Bone Collector, he has bottomed out with swill such as Sliver and The Desperate Hour. 

 

Marcie (Morena Baccarin) is completely surprised by an unexpected double-cross,
although Charlie (Pierce Brosnan) had his suspicions. But what will they do about it?

Fast Charlie falls somewhere in between, with Pierce Brosnan’s laconic charm giving Richard Wenk’s bare-bones script more juice than it deserves. The film is adapted loosely from Victor Gischler’s 2001 crime novel, Gun Monkeys, retaining the core plot beats while abandoning the dark humor that finds the author sharing territory with Elmore Leonard and Carl Hiaasen.

Wenk — undoubtedly with input from Brosnan — also has softened the title character. He’s still a ruthless killer, but solely in the service of restoring honor; most notably, the film’s Charlie Swift doesn’t take out cops.

 

The story settles into well-worn territory, with Charlie a career “concierge” — please, don’t call him an “enforcer” — for elderly crime boss Stan Mullen (James Caan, genuinely touching in his final film role). Stan has long controlled Mob operations in Biloxi, Miss., with a well-honed crew that oversees various profitable enterprises. But his memory has been failing with age; Charlie spends every possible moment helping the man he has called a friend for decades.

 

Stan and his crew are family.

 

But the times, they are a-changing. Beggar Johnson (Gbebga Akinnagbe), an ambitious up-and-comer not inclined to patience with The Way Things Have Been Done, has his eye on Stan’s territory.

 

Charlie — an accomplished chef on the side, who loves Italian food — has been contemplating retirement. Under ideal circumstances, he’ll succumb to his long-nurtured dream of buying and restoring an Italian villa. (This is a real thing: One can purchase a property for just 1 euro, with the understanding that it’ll be properly renovated within a specific deadline.)

 

But — wouldn’t you know it — circumstances swiftly cease to be ideal, and Charlie suddenly is faced with scores to settle: the ol’ “one last time” scenario.

 

The Good House: Reasonably well constructed

The Good House (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and brief sexuality

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Because we spend so much time inside her protagonist’s head, there was only one way to successfully bring Ann Leary’s 2013 novel to the big screen.

 

Happily, writer/directors Maya Forbes and Wallace Wolodarsky — with a scripting assist from Thomas Bezucha — took the bold approach.

 

Although much of her life is sliding down the drain, Hildy (Sigourney Weaver) always
finds joy while walking her dogs with longtime friend Frank (Kevin Kline).

Sigourney Weaver’s Hildy Good constantly breaks the fourth wall to address us viewers directly, while sharing her thoughts, opinions, vexations and disappointments regarding the friends, neighbors and fellow citizens in the Massachusetts town of Wendover. Born and bred in this adorable coastal community, Hildy regards herself as its unofficial matriarch.

Outwardly, she’s the embodiment of the Puritan work ethic: industrious, practical and self-reliant, having raised herself up from working-class “townie” to become the most successful Realtor on Boston’s tony North Shore.

 

But as a longtime alcoholic who refuses to acknowledge that she has a problem, Hildy also is a wholly unreliable narrator.

 

Weaver makes her tart, witty, well-read and acutely perceptive; her snarky line deliveries and authoritative body language brook no dissent. Hildy is descended from witches, and may be a “Gammy” herself, given an uncanny ability to “read” people while holding their hands.

 

She also has two adorably cute dogs, who follow her every move.

 

As this story begins, though, Hildy has just returned from an enforced rehab intervention staged by her daughters, Tess (Rebecca Henderson) and Emily (Molly Brown). Tess is married, with a family; as we initially meet her, Henderson makes the woman seem severe, strict and judgmental … borderline unlikable. (Savvy viewers will understand that this often is inevitable, in children raised by alcoholics.)

 

As time passes, though, Henderson’s subtle performance reveals the unfairness of that initial reading.

 

Brown’s Emily, still in college, is rather obtuse: wrapped up in herself, and definitely exuding an aura of entitlement.

 

Hildy is snappish and humiliated by the embarrassment of having been “outed” so visibly, by her family and close friends. She also doesn’t understand what the fuss is all about; she never met a problem that couldn’t be solved over two glasses of Pinor Noir, and besides … she’s more fun when she’s drinking.

 

Until she isn’t.

Deadpool 2: Still gleefully gory

Deadpool 2 (2018) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, for relentless violence, profanity, gore, sexual candor, tasteless humor and rather bizarre nudity
By Derrick Bang

If it’s true the world is going straight to hell, this film series is pushing us into the abyss.

Having been made an X-Men trainee by the metal-skinned Colossus, Deadpool (Ryan
Reynolds, left) attempts diplomatic persuasion in order to defuse a volatile crisis
involving a rogue mutant. Needless to say, that won't work...

The character of Wade Wilson, known as Deadpool while concealed beneath red and black Spandex, occupies a tasteless subdivision of the Marvel Comics universe. His insolence and appetite for blood-drenched vigilante justice set him apart from superheroes who obey a higher moral calling, and his mutant talent — accelerated regeneration, like a lizard that can re-grow its tail — encourages all manner of gross-out melees.

To its credit (?), the companion film series quite faithfully replicates the vulgar tone, rude banter and hyper-violent carnage. If anything, Deadpool 2 is even more deplorably disgusting than its 2016 predecessor, which — no doubt — will delight the fans who’ve pushed that first film to a ludicrously high IMDB rating of 8.0. 

To paraphrase H.L. Mencken, nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the movie-going public.

Needless to say, these films can’t — shouldn’t — be taken seriously. They must be approached vicariously, enjoyed (endured?) as examples of the sick and/or dark-dark-dark humor typical of Pulp Fiction, Bad Santa and both Kick-Ass entries.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying caveat emptor. If your idea of a good time doesn’t include watching our anti-hero groan and crack wise after literally getting ripped in two, bloody entrails dangling from both halves, better go for some other option at the multiplex.

This film picks up more or less where the first one left off, with the hideously scarred Wade (Ryan Reynolds) having settled into his role as masked mercenary and executioner of grotesquely vile criminal dons, drug kingpins, human traffickers and, well, you get the idea. Alas, that sort of behavior cuts both ways, and Wade gets hit where he lives. Literally.

Thanks to a quasi-alliance established with a few members of the X-Men, Wade is rescued from his subsequent funk by the imposing, metal-skinned Colossus (voiced by Stefan Kapicic), who — with ill-advised optimism — makes Deadpool a trainee member of the team. Their first mission: to quell a crisis at a home for wayward mutant orphans, where a distressed teenage pyrotic named Russell (Julian Dennison) is carrying out his own scorched-earth policy.

Deadpool: Gleefully revolting

Deadpool (2016) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, for strong violence, gore, relentless profanity, sexual content and graphic nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.12.16

This is a flick for folks who felt the Kick-Ass movies weren’t violent enough.

And those who believe that Melissa McCarthy and Amy Schumer could be more potty-mouthed, if they worked harder at it.

Much to the disgust of companions Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand)
and Colossus, and moments before facing dozens of gun-toting thugs, Deadpool (Ryan
Reynolds) addresses his audience directly, to discuss precisely how silly everything
has been, up to this moment.

Which is to say, Deadpool is outrageously smutty, profane and gory: about as far from the usually family-friendly Marvel Universe movies as could be imagined. It’s another of those merrily anarchic Hollywood projects that makes ultra-conservatives fret about the end of Western Civilization as we know it.

It’s also rather funny at times, in a tasteless, dark-humor sort of way. But only at times; the shtick wears thin rapidly. Not even Ryan Reynolds can hold our interest with 108 minutes of nonstop mugging and smart-assery. Although — give him credit — he makes a game effort.

The character has an odd history in Marvel’s comic book world, having been introduced in the early 1990s as a villain in various X-Men titles. He gradually morphed into an amoral antihero with a back-story as an unscrupulous mercenary for hire, eventually granted the mutant power of accelerated healing at the cellular level.

Meaning, he can’t be killed in the usual sense. Bullets perforating his body, a knife to the head ... no problem. Hack off a limb, and it regenerates, like a lizard’s tail.

You can imagine what today’s unrestrained special effects wizards can make of that gimmick ... and director Tim Miller — a CGI/VFX designer/producer making his feature directorial debut here — is just the guy to orchestrate the requisite mayhem.

But messy invulnerability isn’t Deadpool’s primary characteristic; he’s best known for his refusal to acknowledge his role as a member of the tightly plotted Marvel Universe. Deadpool knows that he’s a comic book character; he frequently breaks the fourth wall and addresses the readers, or indulges in arguments with the writers who concoct his word balloons.

In that sense, Deadpool is a smug and sassy, 21st century update of Marvel's equally cynical 1970s icon, Howard the Duck. Deadpool also upsets the “regular” Marvel superheroes, who can’t be their usual, carefully scripted selves with this loose cannon shredding the pages.

I’m also reminded of Jasper Fforde’s marvelously whimsical novels, with heroine Thursday Next as a “literary detective” who can jump into classic books, interact with their characters, and even change the endings of stories we know and love. Except that, well, Deadpool is a lot nastier. And more callous. And unapologetically juvenile.

And ... you get the idea.