Levy, Reynolds, and co. are onto something here, using the metatextual modus operandi of Deadpool soyjaking to break open the conventional mold of modern Marvelisms and tell a tale of redemptive meaning. I’d say the film avoids the pitfalls of the Merc with the Mouth’s usual cynicism for something more tangible, but actually the entire point of the narrative is that these characters are falling into a vortex of cynicism, corporatized tinkering of quantum entanglement multiverses engineered specifically to plant stinky asses in stinky theater seats, and that realm has become so played out, become so contrived and meaningless, that our two heroes, each vying for their own sacrificial vindication, have to fight through the climax to literally restore the “timeline integrity.” It’s impressively creative in its meta bankruptcy that it circles back around to being kinda cool and sincere again, bringing back tons of characters lost to the frayed threads of time or mismanagement, throwing them into a Mad Max hellscape and letting them vie for post-apocalyptic scraps, and I’d lie if it didn’t finally work in the end to peel back my own foil of cynicism with its irreverent, flippant heart for the derelict state of capeshit cinema. I’ll be honest about it, since I know the exact moment the movie clicked for me — as soon as Wesley Snipes appeared as Blade, I thought to myself, “Okay… you got me. You actually got me.” It’s been a long while since the dreaded vacancy of ‘fan-service’ actually worked to service this particular fan, and, yeah, they got me. Of course, the actual heart of the movie lies in Jackman’s ability to never grow old as Wolverine — even as Old Man Wolverine — and Levy and Reynolds’ ability to (1) rhetorically acknowledge the utterly preposterous and futile necessity of Marvel bringing Jackman back, and (2) embedding that necessity into a story that mines the context around the character and everything he stands for, while synthesizing and connecting his growth with the development of Deadpool… was impressive, at least within the scope of any of the recent Marvel smut of the past few years I’ve ended up seeing. Don’t really get the seething about this one, to be honest. 

The power of Wesley Snipes. 
The power of Huge Jacked Man. 
The power of Madonna. 
And, yes, the power of Marvel Jesus.