Ryan Reynolds brings huge physical energy to the antihero that is Deadpool. Even the opening credits subvert the Marvel universe, by featuring Deadpool’s comments on characters rather than the names of the actors or the production staff.
I enjoyed it, especially the glorious Stan Lee cameo and the original post-credits scene. Moments are homage to “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. What’s not to like?
As the minutes go by and you see endless violence, hear so much swearing and start to note that just one more meta reference to X-Men has happened through that broken Fourth Wall, you question it.
Boys don’t. Boys seem to love this, unconditionally. All the boys I know, of all ages, believe this is the best Marvel movie ever.
Girls? Girls like it, but not the way the boys do.
Yes, that’s sexist but there seems to be that divide. I liked it but it all felt like it was just too much of everything, all the way through.
Morena Baccarin is terrific. Reynolds has never been better. Yet I felt like all my senses were being assaulted, all the time. I thoughtt I had strayed into a video game full of war and anger.
At the Stratford East Picturehouse, all the guys were whooping and engrossed. The gals were appreciative, but looking away, at key points.
It will be hugely successful. But I like the subtlety and love of “Guardians of the Galaxy” more than I like this. Heck, the box office is proving that it’s just me that has my doubts.
I can only handle so much smart alec swearing and violence before my brain switches into neutral. That happened an hour in.
Sequels will run and run. I confidently predict “Deadpool 7” will be along, faster than I can imagine.