Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice - I REALLY wanted to like this movie

In The Lego Movie, Will Arnett’s Batman sang an ode to being glum in Gotham, which included the lyrics, “Darkness! No parents! Continued darkness! More darkness, get it?” But even he’s out-moodied by the iteration in Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice. For those who thought Man Of Steel was too gloomy and navel-gazing, we have some bad news: the addition of Bruce Wayne to the franchise has not lightened the mood any.

Horribly scarred both inside and out, Ben Affleck’s grey-templed Darkest Knight is so morally burned out that he not only subdues foes, but tortures and brands them like cattle. His dreams are plagued by screeching, man-sized bats. Not even the very pleasant water feature in his lakeside cave cheers him up. There’s nothing wrong with a little angst, but here it’s doubled down: pitting him against an insecure and self-doubting Superman, Zack Snyder’s movie is a spectacle that proves heavy on visual pizzazz but markedly light on fun.

As with other ‘versus’ films — Alien Vs. Predator, Freddy Vs. Jason, Kramer Vs. Kramer Vs. Godzilla — the title carries a charge of giddy promise. Two titans of pop culture will, we are assured, rearrange city streets with each other’s faces. And once it arrives, the fight is a tightly choreographed, berserkly overwrought treat. But talk about delayed gratification: Snyder makes you wait, and wait, and wait for the championship bout. As the colon in the unwieldy title suggests, this is really two movies squished into one. Besides another run-through of Bruce Wayne’s tragic backstory (including an odd nod to John Boorman’s Excalibur), Dawn Of Justice strains to both set up a plausible conflict between the two superheroes, and shift pieces into place for future sequels and spin-offs. It’s a film with a lot on its mind.

The main plot starts well enough. A Rashomon-style replaying of Man Of Steel’s finale through the eyes of Bruce Wayne, as he slaloms through Metropolis in a tiny black car in an effort to rescue his employees, helps us buy into his rage when it comes to Superman. (Could it be that Snyder is channelling all the angry comments he got on message boards about his previous film’s destructive finale?) Wayne’s pissed, he’s paranoid, he’s going full Trump. Affleck underplays the role nicely, exuding rumpled world-weariness like only a man who’s survived Gigli can, and dispelling any lingering memories of Daredevil. Then along comes Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor. Sporting a Banksy T-shirt, chomping on Jolly Ranchers and throwing random “Mmm!”s into his maniacal monologues, the character is going to be an acquired taste — it’s not difficult to imagine him popping up in one of the Joel Schumacher Batman films. Less up for discussion are his schemes, which are both numerous and not massively well thought out, despite the fact he frequently appears to be omniscient. One explosive set-piece, in particular, is visually impactful but has no real effect on the story.

For most of its run-time, the film focuses on talk over action — a Sucker Punch-ish nightmare sequence, in which Batman takes on Kal-El’s super-troopers and flying, shotgun-toting bug-men (one of several nods to as-yet-unseen mega-bad’un Darkseid) is a fun if slightly pointless exception. Jeremy Irons proves a fine Alfred, sternly ticking off Bruce and even making lines like, “You are to deception as Mozart to the harpsichord,” sound good. Holly Hunter spars with Eisenberg in the thin role of a US Senator, while Scoot McNairy plays a former Wayne Enterprises employee with a grudge against Superman. There are too-short interludes with Clark Kent, who we learn has signed up to Dropbox. It’s all very solemn, very operatic, and a bit dull.

It’s with an hour to go that Dawn Of Justice goes nuts. Following a wonderfully camp training montage in which the Dark Knight furiously pumps Batbarbells and chucks a tyre around, he and Supes go cape-to-cape through the slums of Gotham, a sight to justify the slow and gloomy build-up. There are ultra-sonic blasters, machine-gun turrets, kryptonite grenades, everything but the kitchen sink. (Our mistake: a sink gets smashed on someone’s head, too.) It’s here at last, amid the crumbling masonry, that the movie discovers its joie de vivre. Which is why it’s a shame that Snyder feels the need to throw in a hulking, city-smashing Uruk-hai afterwards. A climax to a climax, it’s CGI overkill, making for a generic and exhausting denouement.

As for the DC world-building, there’s a lot to take in, though much of it amounts to a superhero watching clips of other superheroes on a laptop. Metahumans are glimpsed — hastily setting the table for next year’s Justice League, doing in four minutes what took Marvel four years — though, with one trippy exception, they don’t actually interact with our principal characters. That honour goes to Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, a character invented in 1941 and only now making her big-screen debut. Gadot’s dramatic powers remain to be tested, but she at least makes a big impact in the final reel’s showdown, unleashing her Lasso Of Truth and power-sliding all over the place. It’s a landmark moment in cinema, executed well. Still no sign of Dawn, though.

Grade - C

Deadpool

As far as comic book characters go, there are few more harshly divisive than Deadpool. For as many people who can’t get enough of his blabber-mouth and general insanity, there is an equal number of people who feel like most of the heroes in the Marvel Comics world: they hate his guts. As such, the long-developing Deadpool movie has spent years as a mystery, with it constantly carrying the question of whether or not it would highlight the best aspects of the character, or the worst ones.

Now the verdict is in, and the good news is that director Tim Miller’s Deadpool is a blissfully unique and hilarious action-packed blockbuster that stands as one of the best big-screen superhero origin stories that we’ve had the pleasure of seeing.

Based on a script by Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, the non-linear comic book film recounts the life and times of Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds), a mouthy ex-Special Forces operative turned sociopathic mercenary who finds his world forever changed when he meets the beautiful Vanessa (Morena Baccarin), a prostitute whose entire life has been the same level of dark and awful as Wade’s. Drawn close by their matching pain, they couldn’t be more happy together… but, of course, that’s when tragedy decides to strike.

It’s revealed that Wade has late-stage cancer in his liver, lungs, prostate and brain, and is left questioning whether or not he should sacrifice his love and spare her the pain of watching him wither and die. But that’s also when Wade finds a special offer on the table – invited to take part in what’s described as a government-funded workshop that will not only cure his disease, but give him abilities beyond any normal man. He puts his life in the hands of a shaved-headed, menacing doctor named Ajax (Ed Skrein), though when it turns out the facility has designs on turning Wade into a super slave instead of a superhero, he’s put on a path that will not only see him gain incredible healing powers and horrifically scarred skin, but also a deep, deep desire for bloodthirsty revenge.

If variety is the ultimate key to the perpetuation of the comic book movie genre, then Deadpool will be received by fans as a blessing, because we truly have not seen anything quite like it to this point. Taking the complete opposite approach to the character than the one exercised by X-Men Origins: Wolverine (which surgically removed anything and everything interesting about the post-modern anti-hero), the film understands and embraces what makes the red-and-black-suited psycho special, and utilizes those elements to inspire a fantastical, R-rated, one-liner-filled blast. Everything is on the table, from his gleeful abandon during fights (knowing that he will always heal) to his distinct ability to break the fourth wall, and matched with perfectly-toned superhero cynicism it comes together stunningly well.

There is much to be said about the clear and shining love for Marvel Comics’ most notorious character that comes through in the writing and direction of the film, but the greatest weapon Deadpool possesses is star Ryan Reynolds – given a second shot to prove that he is the perfect actor to play the Merc With The Mouth (spoiler alert: he absolutely does). Reynolds has certainly had a rough go of it in the genre – not only starring in the brutal X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but the equally bad Green Lantern and Blade: Trinity - but those past failures only add a tremendously righteous redemption angle to Deadpool’s story.

The actor clearly revels in the opportunity to hyperactively babble on, and in doing so demonstrates genius timing and impeccable chemistry with all of his co-stars – whether Wade is trading horrible life stories with Morena Baccarin’s Vanessa; talking shop with the always-delightful T.J. Miller as Deadpool’s friend/weapons dealer Weasel; or mocking the angst-y, goth-styled X-Men trainee Negasonic Teenage Warhead (played by talented newcomer Brianna Hildebrand). Clichéd as the phrase may be, Ryan Reynolds was born to play Deadpool, and he truly doesn’t waste a second of the opportunity (now that it has come around again).

As has been proven in the past by titles like Iron Man and Guardians of the Galaxy, humor goes a very long way in making comic book movies stand out, and it’s the fact that Deadpool is constantly laugh-out-loud funny that will secure its place as one of the best examples of the genre. The way the titular hero prattles on, you’d think that at least some of the jokes would land with a dull thud, but the hit-miss ratio is outstanding, and the love is very much spread around – with every supporting character getting at least one big laugh.

Not having the budget of your typical $150-200 million blockbuster, Deadpool is relatively small-scaled for a comic book movie, but the production deserves an incredible amount of credit for maximizing the resources that they have. Surely benefiting from Tim Miller’s extensive and impressive background in visual effects, the biggest action sequences are pure-blooded spectacle, rife with highway pile-ups, stunningly choreographed acrobatics and hand-to-hand combat, intense gunplay, and katana-swinging badassery. What’s more, the movie certainly takes full advantage of its R-rating – racking up a sizable and creatively-created body count that clearly demonstrates the protagonist’s anti-hero status – but it also never pushes the violence towards unpleasant gratuity. Combined with some excellent production and costume design (it’s hard to get over how great the Deadpool suit looks), and a wonderfully eclectic soundtrack, the film brandishes fantastic flair and thrills that complete the picture.

Deadpool’s script spent about five years on the shelf waiting to get made, and watching the finished result, it’s hard to understand why its incredible potential wasn’t seen and exploited sooner. The movie is going to endear a whole new audience to the vivid and weird character, while once again demonstrating the tremendous opportunity for variety in the comic book movie genre. “Worth the wait” only begins to describe the outrageous and excessively entertaining film, and it spells incredible things for the character's future.

Grade - A+

Deadpool is going to endear a whole new audience to the vivid and weird character, while once again demonstrating the tremendous opportunity for variety in the comic book movie genre.