Deadpool

I’m not an X-Men fan and never have been. I remember reading the comics only occasionally when I was a kid and I have seen only two of the movies (neither of which made much of an impression on me). This is not to say I condemn the property, just that this one doesn’t click with me.

As such, I didn’t know anything about Deadpool before I caught the pre-movie show at the Drafthouse last Friday which included a clip from an X-Men movie where Ryan Reynolds played (apparently) Deadpool in a sleeveless, hoodless set of Lycra tights, his skin unpockmarked and confusingly lustrous.

Also, he just kind of whipped his swords around in a figure eight and managed to kill a hundred goons with their own ricochets (shades of Star Wars).

That was the moment I realized why the original Deadpool movie had been scrapped and why only the test footage from some animators was able to save it by showing what Deadpool was actually supposed to be like.

Any certainty I had that the movie was going to be good was immediately replaced by a terrible dread that the same idiotic studio exec responsible for halter top Deadpool (Dibs on the band name) had somehow gotten close enough to this movie to get his stink all over it again.

Not to worry. I could tell from the very first opening credit that I was in good hands. The Deadpool movie is a nonstop de-fucking-light. That didn’t come out right. It sounds like the movie was unfucked and kind of light. No, the movie is awesome from the first moment to the very last final credit. Ignore the weird disparity between MetaCritic (65) and Rotten Tomatoes (89) and just go see it.

 

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