Before the Deadpool movie hype started, I had never heard of the comic. I am a late bloomer to comics in general, so almost all of my Superhero knowledge has come from either movies or cartoons. Deadpool was pretty much the same, except I did manage to read a couple of his later comics the week before I saw the movie. So while I cannot comment on the movie’s accuracy to Deadpool‘s origin story in the comics, it was tonally true to this comic series. Both also have that most magical of qualities for me: the ability to make me literally laugh out loud at things that are so wrong they’re spelled with a capitol, “R!” So, if your sense of humor has a dark twist to it, I think you will find either to be worth checking out.
There is far more to Deadpool though than gallows humor. Deadpool is a deeply tortured individual. His constant stream of wise-cracks really is a defense mechanism. The process which gave him his superpowers, most notably healing, also left him in constant agony. He doesn’t just struggle with who he is, he hates who he is to the point where he refuses to be better: because he doesn’t believe he is worthy of being better. I think we all know this person. If not ourselves, we have known someone who always manages to “snag defeat from the jaws of victory.” Deadpool is this personality writ large.
It is the layers that make Deadpool, particularly the movie, so powerful. Despite DC’s and Sony’s best efforts, we are living in a Golden Age of Super Hero movies. Legends writ large across the screen, who not only fight the good fight, but who are vulnerable and pay an emotional toll for their victories. Deadpool’s suffering and vulnerabilities are even deeper, and he shuns anything that even seems remotely heroic. He is, for me at least, the epitome of the doubts and negative voices that can so readily overwhelm my confidence as well. In many ways I think Deadpool is as accurate of a Superhero portrayal as there is, with his humor lessening the blow of how difficult and isolating such a life would be.
And, speaking of isolation, I wanted to share that I saw the movie alone. Literally! I went to the last showing during the week and I was the only one in the theater. I’ve never had that experience before, and it was weirdly cool. When the movie got out it was pushing 1am and I didn’t see anyone at all as I left. Concessions was dark and shut down, and most of the lights in the lobby had also been dimmed. It was actually a bit eerie, and definitely reminded me of the prologue to so many horror movies. A final viewing note is that I saw Deadpool on International Woman’s Day, which those who have seen the movie may remember is referenced in the lovemaking montage early on in the movie, making for yet another “meta” moment π
Am yet to see Deadpool, might not make it in the theatre.
On seeing movies alone – when I saw the True Grit reboot, only one other person in theatre. All the sound so clear. When she walked on the one (crucial) twig, you heard it and was the only sound.
That sounds fantastic! (no pun intended) I think I’m going to try and watch all my movies in theater this way now if I can.
And,if you do see Deadpool, let me know your thoughts π