Review: Deadpool & Wolverine

The most outrageous moments in Deadpool & Wolverine come when we're expected to believe Wade Wilson, AKA Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) is a character with serious thoughts and heartfelt emotions. Fortunately those moments are few and far between, because they don't make any sense. Deadpool is a gleefully amoral pansexual shit-talker for whom nothing is off-limits (unless you're looking for a joke about why TJ Miller was dumped from the series); why should we care about his feelings when he doesn't give a crap about anyone else's?

Instead, this makes a massive withdrawal from the bank of goodwill that the previous films made (meager) deposits into, by briefly re-introducing pretty much the entire supporting casts from those last two films (sorry, no sign of Zazie Beetz' Domino) and then telling us "these are the people whose lives are at stake" from a universe-shattering plot while never showing them again. 

To make matters worse, this comes after a scene where Wilson tries to join the Avengers (hey look, it's a John Favreau cameo) because after two movies worth of making jokes about everything, he's decided he wants his life to mean something. Yeah, right. Spoiler: he does not get the gig, his life falls apart, he retires from being Deadpool, and then-

Well, before all that there's a joyously violent opening sequence in which Deadpool, having dug up the corpse of Logan, AKA Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) - who died in Logan, which was meant to be Jackman's swan song playing the character, and which fans were reassured was a death this film would respect - uses various parts of the corpse to kill dozens of disposable goons in increasingly gory fashion. Now this is what we came to see.

It probably wouldn't have been possible to make a film that was 100% smutty jokes, brutal (if clearly CGI) violence, deep cut in-jokes (there are a lot of as-seen-in-the-comics versions of Wolverine here) and fan service, but this particular creative team should have tried a little bit harder because that's the best stuff here. The plot is a garbled mess that's also a send-off of some of the Fox versions of Marvel characters (oh look, more cameos) while making Deadpool firmly part of the MCU even has it once again reminds audiences that having a multiverse means nothing really matters.

The story is basically kicked off by having the MCU, in the form of Time Variance Authority flunky Mr Paradox (Matthew Macfadyen), recruit Deadpool while tossing the rest of his universe in the trash. Needing a new Wolverine to keep his universe alive, Deadpool eventually finds a version that won't murder him on sight, just in time for the pair of them to be dumped in "The Void", a garbage dump dimension where the TVA puts surplus characters and hey, even more cameos. They also find chief villain and Professor X's secret sister Cassandra Nova (Emma Corrin), who is surprisingly good as a bad guy and probably deserves to turn up again in a film that has actual stakes.

What tiny emotional core all this has comes from the buddy act between Deadpool (annoying) and Wolverine (annoyed), which is basically the same dynamic as Deadpool and (mentioned but not seen) Cable in the last film, only here Wolverine gets his name in the title. It's a fun double act that would have been even better in a film that just focused on them; then again, now that they're both in the MCU - and as we're told multiple times, Marvel won't let anyone retire forever - nothing's ever off the table.

While it makes a kind of sense to have Deadpool push the whole multiverse thing to the point of absurdity and beyond, that doesn't really make this hang together as much of a movie. Whatever its flaws as a story, it's still an entertaining experience; the rapid-fire gags often hit the target (especially the ones about the actors and production), the action is solid if rarely memorable, and the cameos are... well, they're there for the fans, but they're a decent mix of the obvious and the in-joke. You could make a decent sketch show out of all this stuff: Deadpool Kills the Marvel Universe.

- Anthony Morris

Review: Longlegs

Longlegs is a movie that works in the moment. Scenes are soaked in dread; the whole point is that what you're watching is scary right now. Some horror movies get bigger as you consider their implications. This one is happy to provide 90-odd minutes of skin-crawling tension.

Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) is the kind of hyper-focused, socially awkward detective familiar from decades of film and television. New to the FBI, her instincts (psychic or not) during a door-to-door search prove sharp enough to get her bumped up to assisting veteran agent Carter (Blair Underwood) on a very cold case that just might be heating up. Her partner on the search ended up dead; her instincts might not be coming from a mutually beneficial place. 

The case involves a string of family murder-suicides seemingly sparked by strange coded letters sent by a figure known as Longlegs (Nicolas Cage). Nothing in the case seems to add up. Harker cracks the code but the messages are just the usual taunts, Longlegs himself is a creepy freak but his role seems less clear as events progress, the sole survivor (Kiernan Shipka) is fresh out of her coma but less than helpful and each new clue (what's going on with the giant dolls?) only muddies the waters.

This is clearly riffing on a number of classic serial killer films - Seven and Silence of the Lambs come to mind - though this eventually slips sideways into a slightly different genre. It's all retro-stylings (the film is set in the 90s), chilly rural landscapes, dingy houses and big winter coats. The weather forecast says "ominous foreboding".

Monroe's earnest but slightly distant performance only adds to the tension, playing the kind of character you know will keep going past the point where someone more easily unsettled (that is, most of humanity) would be running like a maniac. Maybe blame her mother (Alicia Witt), who, it's increasingly clear, has issues of her own.

As the story progresses the bad vibes grow. The FBI, it becomes clear, is an unsafe space; even when they get the job done, nobody's sure it's the right job. Writer-director Oz Perkins isn't telling a story where all the pieces fall into place. They just fall on the floor in a pattern that's unsettling without ever being fully satisfying.

Cage is only in the film for a handful of scenes, though they're memorable ones. It's surprising to realise his brand of off-kilter performance hasn't been harnessed for straight-out horror earlier. He's often left audiences thinking "what the hell am I watching?". This time hell might be the answer as well as the question.

- Anthony Morris

Review: Fly Me to the Moon

There's a lot going on in Fly Me to the Moon, possibly too much for one movie. Part romantic comedy, part caper movie, part vague gesture towards a rare part of history people still feel good about, it's largely held together by good old fashioned movie magic. Or in layman's terms, here's two good looking people, hopefully you'll want to watch at least one of them.

Kelly Jones (Scarlett Johansson) is wowing them in the sexist world of 60s advertising, but her ability to effortlessly con her clients suggests something a little darker. Which is exactly what the Nixon White House - in the form of Moe Burkus (Woody Harrelson) - likes about her. So here's the gig: head south to Florida, show up at NASA, and help turn a PR mess into a political asset just in time for man to land on the moon.

Meanwhile, heading up NASA's efforts is square-jawed former fighter pilot Cole Davis (Channing Tatum), who you'd think would be great publicity but after the tragic deaths of three astronauts on a mission he was in charge of, he's all about keeping his head down and getting the job done. 

He has a meet-cute with Kelly before he knows who she is, so his loathing of publicity is tempered by his attraction to her. She, on the other hand, knows exactly who he is and likes what she sees. What could possibly get in the way of this romance, especially once Cole realises that her people skills can help smooth the bumpy political road ahead? Guess he better not find out that Burkus has secretly ordered her to create a fake moon landing in case Cole screws the real one up.

At times it's hard to know if this is a romance with a caper movie mixed in, or a caper movie with a romantic subplot. The various political and PR hijinxs are never less than entertaining, but they don't always feel essential; as fictional backstory for an actual event, the stakes couldn't be lower - unless what's really on the line is Kelly and Cole's relationship, which this takes a little too long to focus on.

Still, the tone is enjoyably light, the Mad Men-era 60s vibe remains both stylish and smart, and Johansson is having a lot of fun as a fast-talking career gal constantly charming all and sundry. Tatum is playing the kind of stiff who everyone likes because he gets flustered rather than mad; he's the passive partner, his wound over his past the main obstacle to be overcome.

The final third brings it all together as the traditional rom-com dynamic is revealed (the couple comes together, but one has a secret that will tear them apart) and then woven into the caper (how do our heroes show the world the real moon landing?). The gags speed up, the tension builds, and some real stakes come into play.

This could have lost half an hour, but a slow start's to blame. Much like the moon landing itself, it's the end of the journey that makes the long trip worthwhile.

- Anthony Morris

Review: Twisters

Twisters is basically the platonic ideal of a sequel. It's the same film all over again, only now it's the film you remember rather than the actual first film which, after all, did have its faults. Light on the story but heavy on the destruction, it knows you're not here to think about actual science - unless it's the kind of science you can do in your mom's barn.

Five years ago, Kate Carter (Daisy Edgar-Jones) saw her college buddies dragged up into the sky when an experiment requiring them to get too close to a tornado went wrong. Now a shadow of her former self, she works in weather in tornado-free (for now) New York - but when old buddy Javi (Anthony Ramos) shows up needing the best ever tornado predictor ever, how can she say no?

Once back out in the field (literally) she soon discovers that Javi and his slick corporate team are, well, a slick corporate team. Their main rivals are Tyler Owens (Glen Powell) and his YouTube crew of "tornado wranglers" who race around setting off fireworks inside twisters and sell t-shirts with his face on them. They're loud and crude, but Kate soon finds herself falling for their charms... which is handy, because who's that sinister-looking real estate mogul financing Javi's data-gathering efforts?

The whole film is so lightweight it feels like it could fly away in a slight breeze, which is a big part of its appeal. Aside from the opening - which comes very close to an "a tornado killed my family, now I want revenge" kind of set-up - nothing involving the characters risks cranking up any serious tension. There's slightly more than hints of a love triangle (in a heavier film you'd have Javi marked for death as a loser in both love and staying alive), the "we've got to help these people, not exploit them" subplot is mostly just shades of light grey, and everyone aside from a few obvious jerks just... gets along.

That's because all the real drama comes from the killer tornadoes wreaking havoc across the USA, and this repeatedly and effectively points out that being anywhere near one of these things is a very bad idea. There's nothing quite as memorable as the first film's flying cow (RIP) and even the firenado is something we've seen before, but these sequences are always effective whether they're going for awe-inspiring or terrifying.

At times a bit more drama might not have gone astray. We're introduced to a group of orange rain-poncho-wearing "tourists" who you'd expect to get torn apart at some stage, but nope. By the time Maura Tierney turns up as Kate's warm-hearted, no-nonsense mom, it's clear the real appeal here is just hanging out with a collection of likable all-action nerds who get their kicks looking at clouds and weather maps.

Oh, and seeing a lot of middle America get ripped asunder and hurled into the sky. At one point we see a star-spangled woman rising around a rodeo carrying a giant American flag; it feels like the film-makers missed a trick not having her soar off into the heavens with it as an (inadvertent) sail.

- Anthony Morris