Deadpool is his film's own junky, retrograde RiffTrack, cracking endlessly about balls and gayness, about burn victims and 90s bands and the conventions of superhero movies. Marvel comics' "merc with a mouth" is a sort of shock-jock Spider-Man, with the Punisher's arsenal, Wolverine's healing powers, and the dialogue of one of those open-mic comedy dudes who believes its some kind of courageous truth-telling to point out that men like blowjobs. Onscreen, he can't go a minute without a one-liner about jerking off, or calling bad guys "cock thistle" or "wheezing bag of dick tips." In a tense moment in his pre-costume life, talking with his love (Morena Baccarin) over how he'll dealt with the cancer that's killing him, he spouts with some wistfulness, "If I had nickel for every time I spanked it to Bernadette Peters."
Between the patter, Deadpool's about splatter, some of it memorable: Deadpool pinballs the severed head of Mook A to take out Mook B, and he cheerily loses the use of every limb, Monty Python and the Holy Grail-style, fighting the immovable Colossus (Stefan Kapičić), on loan from the X-Men movies. It's all too much, by design, and it's also by design that carping about it make you feel like a killjoy. Go ahead and go nuts if your life has a void in it that can only be filled by a superhero who gets an eyeful of Gina Carano and immediately declares that she must have a "wang" -- and later compares her to Rosie O'Donnell. You just can't pretend it's radical, on-the-edge comedy when the hero picks the same joke targets as Donald Trump.