X-Men Origins: Wolverine.
It’s a love story. Between an indestructible superhero and Explosions. Explosions loves Wolverine, and is trying to hug him. But Wolverine just isn’t feeling it, and runs away from Explosions every time. Poor Explosions. Explosions just wants to be loved!
This is basically a live-action cartoon that opens with a killer piece of efficient visual storytelling and then spends the rest of its runtime pandering to thirteen-year-old boys — badly. If you’re going to pull blatant fanservice by including a character like (popular violent wack-job) Deadpool, shouldn’t you at least make some effort to understand just why the fans you’re pandering to like the character in the first place? Maybe hit-up Wikipedia?
“Bad” doesn’t cover it. This movie is exuberantly stupid, gleefully thick-headed. It has a bunch of boxes to check off, and checks them off with as many bullets, blades, and booms as it can manage, with a heavy dose of fanwank Marvel cameos just for good measure. I have no idea how a movie this over-the-top ridiculous can exist with neither Nic Cage nor Paul W. S. Anderson having had anything to do with it.
This movie is like an adorable, excited, incontinent puppy who sprays the room with shit whenever he’s hyped-up, which is always. Yes, the little devil is kinda fun to play with, but it’s hard to overlook the fact that he’s covered everything you care about with a layer of dog feces.
The movie has an energy to it that’s actually kind of appealing. Not appealing enough to overcome its own awfulness, mind. But, still. It’s unique. And awful. But nevertheless, unique.