With Deadpool & Wolverine, Ryan Reynolds serves up a roast of Marvel that's comic nerd nirvana

I hate to do this, but I'm calling out Ryan Reynolds.

In an interview with the New York Times, Reynolds, the face and force behind Deadpool, said his nine-year-old daughter and his mother both happily watched his latest film. 

While I applaud the Reynolds family's sense of cohesion, I have to call BS.  

Deadpool & Wolverine is ideally not for them. It is not meant for nine-year-olds or supportive parents. It is meant for us. 

And by us, I mean the fans of the last decade of comic book inspired content, those raised on the cinematic exploits of The Avengers, The X-Men, The Dark Knight and more. 

Those still clinging to treasured memories of the peak of the so-called Marvel Cinematic Universe, the operatic excess of Avengers: Endgame still ringing in our ears. Those waiting to recapture the uncomplicated pleasures of a well-told tale, watching as the corporate colossus shuffles forward like, well, a Marvel zombie seems to be an apt metaphor. 

To be a fan of super-heroic cinema in 2024 is a peculiar state of arrested development. You long for the sense of escapism, the giddy bliss of a theatre roaring in unison, but you're also old enough to see the faults. Which is what makes the arrival of Deadpool & Wolverine so timely. This is the roast of the MCU it so richly deserves.  

If you shiver with excitement at seeing Hugh Jackman appear as Wolverine in the iconic yellow and blue X-men suit, this is for you. (And Bub, when it comes to costumes, you ain't seen nothing yet.) 

If, when someone mentions The Fantastic Four, you say "Which one?" and then sing the praises of Ioan Gruffudd, this is for you. 

Sure, there's the basic premise of "superhero without purpose who finds a quest and fights the Big Bad" that casual fans can grasp. But to understand why the guy in the X-Force T-shirt behind you is chuckling while spilling his popcorn, you need to have lived through the peaks and valleys of the last couple decades of comic book drama. 

Going into the third instalment of the Deadpool franchise, I worried that Reynolds' brand of potty-mouth sass may have reached its expiry date. But by aiming his barbs at the fading embers of the MCU, the result is both a love letter to and absolution for fans of the comic book blockbuster. 

Reynolds and his writers are, in effect, saying, "We know this is ridiculous, the rules arbitrary and continuity unmanageable, but for 127 minutes, let's have a lark, see some old friends and make a mess." 

And the mess begins with our hero at a low point. Wade Wilson has hung up his Deadpool suit and is now wallowing in a normal job while dreaming of a greater purpose. 

But a sudden interruption by the Time Variance Authority (Yeah, you might want to have a passing familiarity with the Loki series on Disney+) gives the "Merc with the Mouth" the opportunity he's been yearning for.