What doesn’t count as spoilers: Several characters, including Colossus, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and Blind Al, are back (so is T.J. Miller’s wry sidekick Weasel, though the actor’s recent personal troubles have already gotten him nixed from the next installment). Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick also return as coscreenwriters, alongside Reynolds, though director Tim Miller has been replaced by David Leitch, a longtime stuntman who honed his wham-bam-on-a-budget style with last year’s Atomic Blonde.
Blonde was deliberate pulp, but its fight scenes had a messy, bone-crunching veracity that DP2 mostly trades in for chaotic cartoon violence. There’s a numbing sameness to the casual bloodshed here that makes the viewer almost long for the relative calm of the first film’s lengthy pop culture digressions. It’s in Deadpool’s DNA to channel the wild id of a 12-year-old boy — a very clever one who happens to love boobs, Enya, and blowing stuff up. Which is dizzy fun for a while, like eating Twinkies on a Gravitron. Eventually, though, it just wears you out. B