D

eadpool is a Marvel Comics superhero for the cynically witty age; a super-powered mercenary with a funky-filthy mouth and fondness for pointing out superhero comics, movies and cultural cliches.

In his first cinematic solo outing, this self-awareness is all about poking fun at everything from the franchise '€” from the titular character'€™s close ties to the X-Men series to the actor portraying the superhero.

This means many lines where actor Ryan Reynolds makes winking references to his own career '€” a much-maligned turn at portraying the superhero Green Lantern, his 2010 '€œSexiest Man Alive'€ cover for People magazine and his heavily criticized debut cameo as Deadpool in the horrible X-Men Origins: Wolverine film.

That smartypants quality extends to the film. The beginning credits are littered with hee-haw admissions of the movie being directed by '€œAn Overpaid Tool'€, produced by '€œSome Real A-Hats'€, written by '€œThe Real Heroes'€ and featuring '€œA Hot Chick'€ as well as a '€œGratuitous Cameo'€.

In other words, Deadpool is a movie based on the idea that it is going to be smarter than the usual superhero film because it is aware that it is a superhero movie.

It doesn'€™t quite work out that way. For one, at its center, Deadpool'€™s story is the same basic superhero-origins tale that studios have given us for the past few years. And it'€™s not exactly delivered with any uniqueness.

Wade Wilson is a former Special Ops turned mercenary who finds himself afflicted with multiple organ cancer.

Eventually subjecting himself to a torturous experiment in the hope of ridding himself of the illness, Wade finds himself horribly disfigured, though with enhanced abilities that include physical regeneration.

It'€™s not a dull story per-se, and first-time director Tim Miller (a visual artist and animator whose credits include the American remake of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo) manages to infuse a surprising barrage of violent action, where the explicitness does go beyond the usual Marvel fare '€” at once shocking yet grotesquely jovial in its own gleeful way.

Yet, the basic arc of the story remains stuck with conventional beats that we'€™ve seen too many times before, while the characters are either forgettable stock villains (Ajax, who is basically just vaingloriously cruel and strong) or possible-franchise entryways (X-Men'€™s Colossus and the delightfully named Negasonic Teenage Warhead).

Faring better are Weasel (TJ Miller), the best friend whose blunt, realistic quality is a fresh perspective and Blind Al (Leslie Uggams), the old, blind roommate who trades off cynicism with Wade.

Reynolds is a natural at delivering witty lines, but sprinkling lines about the silliness of an action sequence by explaining what'€™s going down doesn'€™t make the script nearly as smart as it thinks it is.

As the film trudges on with a winking conviction (or a conviction in its winking-ness), the story'€™s reliance on formula becomes increasingly apparent. Actress Morena Baccarin'€™s portrayal as the love interest, Vanessa Carlysle (who eventually turns into another superhero in the comic universe), starts off well, with her trading off traumatic childhood memories as a humorous flirtation device with Wade.

But the scrip eventually relegates her to yet another sad stripper waiting for her man '€” something that short moments of action girl power can'€™t really salvage.

The film provides a good amount of laughter that splinters off as its true conventional nature eventually takes form.

There are some good '€œmetamoments'€ here, but like the cynical kid at school who started off cool but eventually became simply annoying, Deadpool doesn'€™t do itself any favors by thinking it'€™s smarter than it really is. It'€™s just another superhero movie, only this time it'€™s a wink-superhero-wink-movie.