Sounds Like a Fucking Franchise: A Look at Deadpool

Whoa, did you guys feel that? That disturbance in the force? As if a million voices suddenly cried out in apathy? I guess that's what happens when I choose to write about something that actually matters. Twice in a row no less. It truly is the end times, folks.

Some of you may remember from my last attempt at being relevant that I asked myself a pretty heavy question: How can I sit here and make jokes about superhero movies with the recent catastrophic events hovering over us like some sort of unrelenting specter? Even when the emotions of one tragedy ebbs, it seems another is right around the corner waiting to turn good people into terrible caricatures once more. Makes it really hard to find the ground under my feet.

Well I grappled with that question for a minute, trying to figure out how best to answer it. After contemplating this riddle for far longer than I should have, I eventually realized that I am the Fool. It is my lot in life; my job to shine a light on and make people chuckle at the ridiculous. Maybe it’s not, you know, the BEST rationalization, but it certainly helps me sleep better at night. Sometimes, the best things we can do for ourselves are laugh, argue about stuff that doesn’t matter, and move forward (hopefully maintaining whatever sanity we might have left).

And hey, speaking of sanity…

I do not write in a linear fashion. I start writing about a particular topic, but my thoughts are often so jumbled that I can't focus on the subject for an extended amount of time. Even now, mind turns towards the best way to eviscerate and laud Suicide Squad in the same breath. I compare my process to going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole. One minute, I'm looking up the definition of nihilism, then 7 hours later I'm on a page about the inventor of the Q-tip (fun fact: they used to be called 'Baby Gays.'). All interesting information, none of it relevant to narrative I'm trying to craft.

Pictured: Mr. Baby Gay

Most of the time, Netflix and my short attention span are the greatest obstacles to my (marginally) coherent thought process, but this time was a little different. See, whenever I sat down to write about Civil War or Ultron or why Spider-Man is racist, my mind would start concocting some hyper-analytical, air-tight argument based around empirical evidence and logically formed opinions. It is as tragically boring and asinine as it sounds. I decided (for everyone's benefit) that it’s time for some well-deserved catharsis. It’s time to live in a world where logic and reason are tied up and beaten senseless like the scene in Reservoir Dogs. It’s time to inhabit a realm where obscure pop-culture references and humor of 10-year-olds reign supreme. It’s time to embrace pure chaos and stupidity in order that I might cure this ailment oft referred to as rational thought.

It’s time to shoop, baby.

Let's talk about Deadpool.

Yes, let's. And good luck getting that song out of your head.

History Lesson

What was that? Did you guys see that?

Hello?

Um, anyway… To put things in a bit of perspective, this film has been in development since I was 16 years old; when my hair was long, my temper was short, and I was an otherwise angst-ridden know-it-all with delusions of grandeur (the more things change, am I right?). Back before the endless onslaught of comic book driven films, before the Marvel Cinematic Universe, before (what passes for) the DC Cinematic Universe, some tortured genius at 20^th Century Fox decided, “Hey! Let’s buy the rights to a Deadpool-led movie and do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WITH THEM FOR 10 GODDAMN YEARS!” Asshole. One of the most uniquely exceptional characters in all of literature relegated to the depths of the studios’ archives never to be released. And when the character was finally scraped from the bowels of Purgatory, he wasn’t the wise-cracking comedian we knew him to be. No, he was… well, he was this:

"....." - Deadpool

Oh, X-Men Origins: Wolverine. In that exercise in how not to make a movie, we received a version of the character of Deadpool that, at its best, is considered a significant departure from the character and at its worst, this is a steaming pile of shit from some animal suffering from a gastrointestinal distress. I’m leaning towards moose.

Moose? I was thinking capybara.

Okay, are you guys seeing this too? Am I going crazy here?

Well, aren't we all a little crazy?

Uh… Or-Origins threw out everything that made the character special, unique, fun, badass, and any other adjective typically used to describe Deadpool. I know that I have spent a lot of time reducing Green Lantern to a weeping pile of bad ideas huddled in the corner by using it as my go-to “joke-of-the-week,” and I make no apologies for that. It’s easy fodder. However, even compared to Green Lantern, X-Men Origins: Wolverine is everything wrong with modern cinema, America as a whole, and the world would be a better place if it just never existed. What it did to Deadpool is unforgivable. Maybe not Holocaust unforgivable, but it’s certainly up there.

Oooo, Holocaust joke. Edgy.

Wade Wilson had swords coming out of his arms, laser eye beams and, the most egregious of offenses, his mouth was sewn shut. Yes, the Merc with the goddamn Mouth was rendered completely unable to speak.

You're right, fuck this guy.
"...................."

Okay, hang on.

What?

Are you going to be sticking around for this whole thing? Don’t you think you’re running the risk of becoming overexposed?

Ah come on, you know me.
If there is one thing you can count on me to do, it's expose myself.

I guess I set you up for that one. Anyway, if there is any goodwill I have left for that movie (there isn’t), it’s because of Reynolds. Before the terrible CGI, before the climax that made absolutely no sense, before the inevitable reboot/sequel (se-boot?) that made this entire film non-canon, Ryan Reynolds took his 2 minutes and 32 seconds of screen time and managed to create the Wade that I had been waiting for; the Wade I was excited to see the movie for. It wasn't much, but this brief little intro went a long way in showing the fans who Deadpool could be in the right hands.

Aw, you're gonna make me blush!

Sadly, after two massively disappointing X-Men films, 20th Century Fox was unwilling to take any risks. Thus, our crimson friend sat in Development Hell for what seemed like an eternity. Directors came on (HA!) and dropped out. The writers turned in about 10 different versions of the script (there's a 5 minute long PG-13 version out there somewhere) and after a while, many of us thought that a Deadpool movie was not but a fever dream; a lustful thought in our minds' eyes.

A+ for effort, F- for execution.

And then, as if God herself descended from the heavens and granted us a small miracle, some noble hero leaked the now infamous CG test footage for Deadpool onto the web. Not only was this footage proof that the film was alive in some capacity, but fuck, this footage was good. The jokes landed, the action was over-the-top and, most importantly, Deadpool did not stop talking throughout that entire clip. The fans lose their collective shits, the studio finally green lights the project, and Deadpool finally danced his way into America’s hearts.

And pants.

Pants jokes, really?

I play to my strengths.

Art in its Purest Form

So why is any of that important? That’s what I’ve been saying. Quite simply, as your history teachers most likely yelled at you at some point in your life, our future is significantly informed by our past. We cannot know where we’re going if we fail to acknowledge where we’ve been, and Deadpool is truly a product of his journey. Yup, I’m all about that smelly wine and cheap perfume. It’s ‘smell of wine’. Huh, you sure? Positive.

. . . OH THE MOVIE NEVER ENDS. . . !

Now, at this point, you know might be thinking, “gee-willickers, that sub-heading sure is a funny joke, Mr. James!” Actually, I was thinking why some kid with thunder-thighs and a 2^nd-term pregnancy stomach is stealing my jokes. I understand your skepticism. You better. The things that come out of my mouth are dripping with so much sarcasm that I can’t even tell when I’m being sincere anymore. Plus, this movie has its title character jerking-off to a stuffed unicorn. Plus-plus, the ‘Mr.’ is highly unnecessary. Call me Sensei.

Hilarious. Eat a dick, now, remember way up there when I said the studio didn’t wanna take risks? It’s okay if you don’t, it was a few ramblings ago. Because of the studio’s unwillingness to put any amount of faith into this movie, Deadpool became a sweeping superhero epic made on a $5 budget. 20^th Century Fox wanted to ensure that any money lost on the unproven R-Rated IP would be minimal. The crew only had enough money for the costume and the Bea Arthur shirt; everything else was improvised. As a result, the studio took a backseat and allowed Director Tim Millar, Writers Rhet Reese and Paul Wernick, and God's perfect idiot Ryan Reynolds to make the exact movie they wanted to make. It’s why we have a movie in which our hero gets shot in the ass, openly air-humps a blind woman, gives a dude a wedgie in the middle of a high speed chase, and otherwise dismembers a good portion of the film’s cast.

Don't forget the dick jokes!

Who could possibly forget about those? And the stuff they weren’t able to do made the movie just a little bit better. The “countdown” scene on the bridge was supposed to be longer and more elaborate. However, all that they could afford was twelve bullets, so twelve is what we got. The final battle was supposed to be a massive fire fight but again, budgetary restrictions made it a straight up sword fight (which ended up giving us the Dopinder pay-off scene). The crew didn’t have the studio looking over them like some kind of overbearing parent. Thus, they were able to decide, "Hey, let's put this here and that there and see what happens." In a world where this sort of filmmaking is becoming increasingly rare in big budget productions, Deadpool really is an achievement of the highest regard.

“Your Crazy Matches My Crazy”

One of the most touching and perfect affirmations I have received as a writer came from one of my coworkers the week after Deadpool opened. She walks up to me, calm and cool as can be, and, with the eloquence of a drunken longshoreman, excitedly exclaimed:  "Holy shit! Deadpool was so fucking funny with the little fucking hand and shit! I sat there watching it and was like ‘Fucking James wrote this damn thing.’"

First of all, that hand thing is fucking disgusting. Second, I'm not embellishing here. That's actually how she talks. She is the most ghetto white girl I have ever met, and is the closest person to an actual cartoon character in existence.

Sounds like my soulmate.

What about Vanessa?

Hey, I'm like the Haunted Mansion. There's always room for one more.
Any volunteers?

Well thanks for ruining that ride for me.

My pleasure. And hers, hopefully.

Gross. All of these facts notwithstanding, I was honored just to be mentioned in the same breath as this movie, mostly because the writing of this movie is amazing. The fourth-wall breaks are breaths of fresh air for anyone who has any understanding of the X-Men Universe or how studio films work. Spelling “Francis” with dead bodies, the aforementioned countdown, the year-long sex montage (my personal favorite. Nobody asked!), making the costume, the ‘Agent Smith the Molester’ bit, the goddamn Zamboni! There is so much to like about this movie and even if you absolutely hate the character with every fiber of your being, there is bound to be at least one joke in here that can bring a smile to your face.

And if not, you're probably dead inside!

Well said. But amidst all the jokes, it's easy to disregard Deadpool's emotional story. See, when people think about Deadpool as a character, what most often comes to mind is his humor, his 4th wall breaks, and his violence. And why wouldn't it? It's the best part of who he is. I mean, yeah, it makes him an unbearable asshole (HEY!), but that's kinda his whole appeal, right? What many forget, though, is that Deadpool books contain a lot of well-earned emotion. The take on Wilson’s father in Cable/Deadpool is incredibly heartbreaking, and Daniel Way spends an entire arc with Deadpool trying to attain Death's sweet embrace.

So would you for an ass like that!

So when Wade sits there, talks about memorizing the lines on Vanessa's face, crying in the dark by himself and playing it off as a Liam Neeson nightmare, I get choked up (Pussy. Asshole. You are what you eat. Sick.). Not only are these scenes poignant (particularly for anyone who has seen someone go through something as terrible as cancer), but when I watch these scenes, I understand beyond all else that this crew understands the character in the same way that The Russos understand Steve Rogers, Whedon understands the Avengers, and Favreau understands Tony Stark.

But not Snyder. Never Snyder. Fuck Snyder
Fuck Snyder indeed.

It would have been incredibly easy to just make a non-stop joke machine, or a brutal action movie, but they decided instead to make Wilson human. And that’s where this movie succeeds. For all of its faults, Deadpool is a movie with an unquantifiable amount of heart. That’s what makes this movie work.

Final Thoughts

We all have our superheroes with whom we identify. It's why we go out to see these modern myths in droves. Maybe you identify with Stark's sarcasm, or Rogers' honor. Maybe we all strive to be the perfection that is Superman or Wonder Woman. Or perhaps you want to snap the necks and drink the blood of your enemies like Snyder's Batman (I know I do!). Yeah, I'm still on that. No, I'm not dropping it.

For me, it's been this guy since I first read his books in high school (Awww). I'm the rapidly-talking, manic idiot that always has a comeback, and that you find either shockingly funny or supremely annoying. I'm the guy to throw out pop-culture references so obscure that only two people in the room will understand what I'm saying, but fuck if they don't piss their pants from laughing so hard. I am the self-deprecating fool that uses fake laughs to hide real pain (‘Laughing on the Outside, Crying on the Inside’ is going on my family crest). Minus the proficiency with various weaponry, the unrelenting need to kill, and the ability to heal, I am Deadpool.

I think I’m starting to like you a bit more, buddy.

And if this movie has taught me anything, it’s that there is a place for my brand of comedy out there somewhere. What's more, people actually paid money at the theater and appreciate this sense of humor. That makes me feel good about what I’m doing here. I mean, it’s certainly not a perfect movie.

(AUDIBLE GASP!)

In fact, there are a lot of logical fallacies, jokes that don't always land, and references that go over the casual viewer's head that are often times a hindrance to the Crimson Comedian (you best take that back, or Imma come over there and make you!). But overall, despite the many issues I take with the flick, Deadpool is a movie that I highly recommend.

And you should. After all, you’ve been sitting there throwing out backhanded comments about what doesn’t work about my movie. I’ve had about enough of your film bashing bullshit. Oh, a fat nerd nitpicking on the internet, never seen that before.

What the hell are you talking about? I recommended your movie! And how the hell did you even get here? You’re a fictional character, you shouldn’t even be here!

Oh, I’m real enough to defend my movie from some over-fed armchair director. If you’re going for the Kevin Smith look, you’re well on your way, Tons-of-Fun.

Hey! I’ve lobbied nothing but legitimate criticism! I feel like I’ve been more than fair here.

Yeah, well I’m sorry that not every joke appealed to you, but that’s the risk you take when you’re being original. You would know if your best shit wasn’t stolen from stand-up comedians.

Oh original? Like your super-basic plot or cliché’ origin story? P.S. Original does not mean good, jackass.

Bo Burnham.

DAMN IT! Well at least I don’t bring my shit to a grinding halt to talk about Swedish furniture for 15 minutes. What happened? You guys shoot your wad of “hashtag” jokes and early 90s references in 45 minutes? You were one racist Chihuahua away from being an episode of I Love the 90s. If I wanted funny Swedish words, I would have popped in The Muppets. Go shit in another cat-litter box.

I intend to, just as I finish up verbally skewering you like a pig at a luau.

Wow, I’ve watched porn with more wit than you.

Oh man, who hasn’t? That shit is great! Come on; X-Men: Days of Future Ass?

Right?! Or Batman and Throbin’?

Lord of the G-Strings!

Edward Penis Hands!

The Devil Wears Nada!

Passion of the Christ: The Second Cumming!

Huh, don’t remember that one.

Sorry, that one’s not real. Just wishful thinking. Oh, how about Spermicide Wad.

Starring Big-Willy Smith as Moneyshot and Jai Courtney as Captain Boomerwang!

… Still Jai Courtney?

What else is he gonna do? Not like the asshole can act.

Man, it’s like looking into a warped and twisted funhouse mirror. But hey, for real though, am I losing my mind? How did you end up hijacking this thing?

Isn’t it obvious? I’ve always been here, hiding in the darkest corners of your mind. You see kids, the truth is you all have a little bit of me inside of you. Deep, deep inside of you.

Jesus, talk about low hanging fruit.

The elderly, all-male strip club? I love that place!

*Sigh*. Say good night, Deadpool.

Good night, Deadpool!

END

Boy, that got weird for a minute there, didn’t it?

Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to read these silly little things (especially after this one). I really love the whole writing thing, and I’m going to continue to do it, but as always, adulting is a real time suck. Just wanted to give you a quick update and let you know that I’m currently in the process of working on:

Suicide Squad, Captain America: Civil War, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Ant-Man, Daredevil, Jessica Jones, White-Washing: The Racial Landscape of the Industry and as always DC: An Abusive Love Story.

So, you know. Stay tuned for… at least one of those before the end of the year at the rate I’m going. I hope that for a couple of minutes, I can bring some sort of joy into your lives.

Be kind to each other.

-James

Chika-Chika