Deadpool (Miller, 2016)

As noxious a movie as I can imagine, the only interest Deadpool affords is in wondering whether it is in fact a movie. Points for: moving images accompanied by sound. Points against: its nonsensical characterisation (Deadpool is unquestionably not the sociopathic mercenary thug the film keeps telling us he is); its structure (the whole film is in essence one set piece, explained and repeated); the totally arbitrary rules of the reality within which the movie takes place. Perhaps most damning is the movie’s use of self-awareness to point out its own failings: what starts as belaboured fourth wall breaking eventually abandons any pretence of irony and simply picks holes in the whole endeavour, its own YouTube-ready snarky deconstruction. An exercise in naked cynicism.


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