The following is a spoiler-filled “review” of Deadpool & Wolverine, the likely last chapter in the merc with a mouth’s cinematic career. If you’ve not seen the flick and you’re still going to read this? Shame on you. Go send Ryan Reynolds $5. He needs it.

(Hey kids! It’s Deadpool here. I’m gonna go ahead and leave my comments on this article because Marc Needs-His-Middle-Name-To-Sound-Important needs his ass slapped more than a few times in this piece of shit. Hey, Pop Culture Squad! Can I swear this much? Anyways. Fishface says this is spoiler-filled, but honestly he just mansplains the backstory for way too long, and gets boxed into a corner if he doesn’t reveal a few plot points towards the end.)Twenty-four years ago, X-Men debuted on the silver screen. Fox’s multi-million dollar production kickstarted a wave of comic book inspired films that literally hasn’t stopped since. Prior to its debut, while Wizard Magazine still mattered, the fandom salivated over every drop of information and speculation with each X-Man cast. And the most hotly debated character every nerd with an opinion wanted answers for was Wolverine. In the comics, Wolvie is a vicious 5’3” foul-mouthed malcontent. The depiction of the character from the 1992 animated adventures — voiced by Cal Dodd with a piquant gravely delivery — was as authentic as you could get. But animation doesn’t just reform into live-action frame for frame without losing a few steps. Hence, the Australian tight-bunned-hunk Hugh Jackman was cast as a reimagined Logan. No yellow suit (lame), certainly of-average-height (if not a bit taller than others on the roster), but otherwise as close as we thought we could ever get for the Canadian destroyer (but we did get Rebecca Romijn’s blue boobies, so, cool.).

Nine years after debuting, Jackman’s Logan was given his own flick, X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Let’s not mince words. It was a trainwreck of a film (correct) that’s long since found a home on TNT as mindless background noise for nerds like me, folding laundry. It was in this abject abomination dorks were treated to the on-screen debut of Wade Wilson — aka Deadpool (Hi kids!). Motor-mouthed Canadian star (sex-starved demigod) Ryan Reynolds landed the gig, and shines as one of the only good things about the movie (correct)… up until the final scenes (even-more-god-damned-correct). No clue exactly why writers David Benioff and Skip Woods decided to turn the fan-favorite character into the frankensteined final boss of the flick (money). Honestly? I don’t want to know. Their near-murdering of the character was the spark that led Reynolds to carry the torch for Wade Wilson in what would become a seven-year battle to right that particular wrong.

And boy did he ever right it. (Fucking right he did.)

Deadpool, debuting in 2016, zagged where things zigged before. The movie was a hard R with Reynolds quipping and swearing like a sailor — while bathing the screen with gunshots, stabbings, and taint-staining. The movie was about as perfect as anyone could have asked for (you’re welcome), given how far it came from. If we’re all being honest though… it also highlighted more than a few shortcomings for the character (Oooh, someone’s aiming for the cinnamon ring). Namely: Deadpool in the grand scheme of comics is more-often than not… a cipher (fuck you, Fishy!). He has no arch enemies (killed them all, whoopsie!). His friends are often B, C, and D-listers all utilized for comic relief. Poolie’s breaking of the 4th wall is a crutch — meant to call out inadequacies of plot and gimmickry (oooh… the irony!). And in spite of this, the character has enjoyed amazing runs in his books… because a gaggle of awesome writers have learned how to steer the ship. It’s a tightwire act of laughs, violence, and just enough pathos so-as to not live wholly as just a parody. That’s the tone Ryan Reynolds nailed in the first installment of the ‘Pool trilogy.

In the sequel, released two years later, Reynolds and his team continued to check all the boxes for Deadpool and his universe — by nabbing Josh Brolin and doubling his Marvel residuals by playing Cable. And it’s here where Ryan shows his hand, making clear that Deadpool as a character, is more often than not best when he’s playing off another character. The maximum effort solo hero act only goes so far for ‘Pool. Deadpool 2 was a solid sequel. While it leaned a bit too hard on reprising the jokes from its predecessor (it’s called continuity, you neckbeard), it ultimately sticks the landing with a fresh take: That Wade Wilson, the cinematic character, needs purpose and some form of civilian life.

According to IMDB (which would never lie) Hugh Jackman recognized how his Wolverine would play off Reynolds’ more comic-accurate Deadpool, and how it had to happen shortly after seeing the 2016 film — which debuted mere days after he’d announced his retirement of the character with the astounding Logan having just been completed (irony be damned). And lo, here we are in 2024, rounding the bend to what feels like the final installment for both characters in this buddy-cop film turned up to 11. (Congratulations Captain Backstory, we’re 857 words in to this shit, and you’re finally getting to the only reason people clicked on this in the fucking first place! But I digress, go on, Wish.com DJ Khalid…)

From the first frame to the last, Deadpool & Wolverine is a fourth-wall breaking tour de force that finds itself somewhere between cinematic universes, between ennui and action, between mattering and never-mattering-at-all. It attempts (and succeeds, fucko) to bridge the gap between the now deceased Fox-licensed Marvel properties and the Disney-owned MCU franchise (you know, the trillion dollar enterprise that just announced RDJ as Doctor Doom because they can’t help themselves). Reynolds and his team of writers pluck the Disney+-tinged TVA from the Loki series to perform the Deus Ex Machina. Deadpool’s universe, as part of the Fox-C-U, is slated to die a death, but because the plot demands it, Deadpool himself is offered a free ticket to the MCU proper. And as much as we the audience agree with Wade about the potential for hilarity and sheer awesomeness that represents… it’s immediately clear that doing so would eliminate the mini-universe already established now within the Deadpool films. That can’t stand, and so, the fourth wall breaks to acknowledge the need (financially speaking) for a team-up.

Let’s go ahead and use the never-terrible crutch of a compliment sandwich when it comes to the film itself (wait, that means he’s gonna say something bad? Oh I’m gonna baby-knife that rabbi-looking mother fucker!). Better than either prior movie, Deadpool & Wolverine has a truly excellent villain. You’re free to google Cassandra Nova on your own, but know that she’s perfectly dropped into place. From her living in a literal void between franchises, to her Hans Landa by way of Willy Wonka performance (don’t give Fishman credit for that, it’s literally in an IMDB trivia note), Nova, portrayed by Emma Corrin, chews the scenery better than the former fiends fought in the flicks. Nova aside, I’d be remiss not to denote the potency of Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine. Playing a variant of the character who is regarded as “the worst” version, we get the surliest, most-violent, and easily the most comic-accurate portrayal of the character ever committed to celluloid. With it, Deadpool the character has never shined brighter. The verbal jabs and jibes land harder, and in several prolonged fight sequences — stick a knife in that — Reynolds is able to emote with physicality while still having his face wholly covered. It’s something honestly no one else has ever pulled off as well amidst the now-dozens-upon-dozens of super hero films.

I’d be remiss — since we’re celebrating the spoilers and all — if I didn’t wax poetic a bit on the never-ending Easter eggs. From offering us Patch, Age of Apocalypse, and comic-height-accurate Wolverine variants… you can’t help but smile ear to ear over the team delivering on the comic book counterparts. Even better? The plot somehow demands we wind up with a makeshift team offering us Jennifer Garner’s Elektra (!), a now late-teen Dafne Keen’s X-23 (!!), Wesley Snipes’ Blade (!!!), and Channing Tatum’s never-actually-really-played-before Gambit (!!!!) all chipping in during the middle third of the movie. And more than just cameos… we get dribs and drabs of backstory and an action sequence that pays homage to their former films, but repaints all of them in the best light possible (and Tatum did it for scale!). While it maybe proved how a comic-accurate Gambit costume is an absolute visual nightmare, it also proved how insanely cool his powers could be on film. All that, and we got funny Chris Evans back (ahem, Free Guy).

The movie is not without a few foibles and faults though. Whether it’s due to needing five writers, or the likelihood of it being the final installment of numerous franchises, the film eeks out a bit over two hours long, and suffers a bit from the bloat. The amount of fan service Reynolds and his team offer is so wall-to-wall (you’re welcome, nerds) things drag in the middle of each act. Combine this with several action sequences that never really increase the stakes or offer us new information, and things feel like they grind to a halt — even if you’re still laughing your butt off (language!) in between the SNIKT!’s and bang-bangs. Take for example, the act three Deadpool vs. Deadpools fight. It’s 10,000% fan-service fodder that ignores the previously denoted “we have roughly 5 minutes before the universe implodes” stakes all so we can get several legitimately hilarious gags. It’s clearly done to offer us some form a final action send-off before the schmaltzy ending (I’ll allow it) … which I will celebrate does not involve a single sky beam.

Runtime, and a few plot holes aside, Deadpool & Wolverine was everything I had personally hoped for, and more (awww!). The jokes are sharper, the Easter eggs never stop dropping, and the cyclical plot — in spite of itself at times — is crafty in its ability to stick the landing. What we’re left with is the stereotypical “we’re done, but never-say-never” ending. The bow Reynolds drops at the end brings us home from the original film, and the after-credits scene doesn’t tease another movie (that you know of, chucklefucks). I’m happy to say I laughed, I got misty a bit, and I left the theater never prouder to be driving home in a Deadpool red Honda Odyssey (I’ll take my check now, beardo).