Just as Robert Downey, Jr. has become the definitive Iron Man, Ryan Reynolds is Deadpool. It's the role he was born to play and whenever he's on screen, the movie's inner classic shines forth.
For all the impulsive flamboyance of Deadpool's patter, the liberating power of personal virtue, and the disinhibiting promise of second chances, "Deadpool 2" feels narrowly impersonal and oppressively unfree.
The filmmakers couldn't care less what offends people and assume that no one is too delicate to appreciate the trademarked Deadpool balance of hyper-violence and the gleefully profane.
Instead of seeking to top the over-the-top antics of the first film, [both director and star are] content to simply groove with what they've already established and just have fun. The result is less exhausting and more entertaining.
Reynolds's underlying sweetness takes the edge off the comic's homicidal self-pity, though the endless shtick has a miss-to-hit ratio of about three to one.
