Sitting in the theater last Thursday night, I got to rub elbows with some die-hard comic book fans. Literally, mind you, as the f--king place was sold out and I had to sit next to another human being that wasn't my wife. Bullshit, right? Of course it was.
And while I'm there, alone in a sea of red and black, enjoying the final bits of a montage of dirty sex, another patron made that awkward shuffle in front of us, likely headed for the restroom. The guy two seats to my left, loudly whispers to his friend sitting next to me, he's probably going to go jerk off.
I did all I could not to crack the f--k up at that dude's comment.
Crude? Yes. Immature? Definitely. But also kind of hilarious. And perfectly timed, too.
All of which apply to the R-rated juggernaut currently tea-bagging movie-goers everywhere, director Tim Miller's debut feature, Deadpool. Starring that handsome Canadian devil Ryan Reynolds, the origin story of the merc with a mouth is killing it at box-offices world wide. Shit. Imagine if it was really good.
Ryan Reynold's is f--king perfect playing Wade Wilson, the low-rent mercenary hired to shake down f--k ups. And after Wade finds out he has late-stage cancer and undergoes an experimental procedure, Reynold's is even better at the fourth-wall breaking Deadpool, Wade's alter-ego anti hero. Frankly, this is some top-shelf, pitch-perfect casting, that fanboys should (and did) cream their pants over. Myself included.
But outside of Reynolds (and the majority of the cast, to be fair), lots of profanity and violence, and a killer opening car chase, their isn't that much to Deadpool. Sure, that's the price we all pay for origin stories, but for f--k's sake, the baby geniuses that marketed this film made for damn sure that we knew Wade's story before we got there. They absolutely f--king nailed it. Which made sitting there and slogging through it again...kind of feel like being shot. In the butthole.
And while I'm there, alone in a sea of red and black, enjoying the final bits of a montage of dirty sex, another patron made that awkward shuffle in front of us, likely headed for the restroom. The guy two seats to my left, loudly whispers to his friend sitting next to me, he's probably going to go jerk off.
I did all I could not to crack the f--k up at that dude's comment.
Crude? Yes. Immature? Definitely. But also kind of hilarious. And perfectly timed, too.
Ryan Reynold's is f--king perfect playing Wade Wilson, the low-rent mercenary hired to shake down f--k ups. And after Wade finds out he has late-stage cancer and undergoes an experimental procedure, Reynold's is even better at the fourth-wall breaking Deadpool, Wade's alter-ego anti hero. Frankly, this is some top-shelf, pitch-perfect casting, that fanboys should (and did) cream their pants over. Myself included.
But outside of Reynolds (and the majority of the cast, to be fair), lots of profanity and violence, and a killer opening car chase, their isn't that much to Deadpool. Sure, that's the price we all pay for origin stories, but for f--k's sake, the baby geniuses that marketed this film made for damn sure that we knew Wade's story before we got there. They absolutely f--king nailed it. Which made sitting there and slogging through it again...kind of feel like being shot. In the butthole.
