Arukou

Maybe I’ll regret writing this, but I’ve seen posts concerned about it, so here are my thoughts.

By the standards of what we consider queerbaiting (two male or female characters who are clearly close friends and who, were one character of the opposite gender, would automatically be considered romantic interests), Deadpool didn’t queerbait (Wade Wilson’s closest male friend is very clearly in the Bro-zone and not so much in the sharing long, lingering looks zone). But here’s the thing. It doesn’t matter. Why? Because there is a backstory behind Deadpool, a history of canon that affects who he is as a character and as an icon in the larger Marvel universe. And moreover, the lead actor has gone on record saying that Deadpool is pansexual. There is an expectation, a hope, that has been placed for those of us who would like to see overt indications of queerness in a superhero film headliner. And Deadpool doesn’t deliver.

If Ryan Reynolds had not gone on record in an interview stating that Deadpool is pansexual, there is nothing in the film that would indicate queerness. There are scenes that I know people will immediately point to as a counterargument for my claim, so let me preemptively touch on those.

“But Wade kisses a guy on the cheek almost right at the beginning! That’s queer, right?”

Wrong. Context. The dude he kisses is his mark, a man he’s been paid to threaten. This is not a dude he’s flirting with; it’s a dude he’s scaring shitless. It’s made clear very quickly that one way Wade keeps his marks and enemies off balance (this is Wade before his torture and insanity) is by acting amiable and friendly one moment and terrifying the next. He get’s his mark off his guard by treating him nicely and joking with him, and in the next moment threatens him with a gun. Just after that, he’s smiling again and saying bygones are bygones, and then he’s got his mark by the throat. On top of all this, the kiss (to the cheek, mind, not on the lips) just plays out as another way of fucking with someone. It doesn’t come across as Wade considering this guy a possible partner.

“But Wade gets pegged by Vanessa! You can’t tell me that’s not queer.”

Uh, no. Wrong again. Anal sex does not automatically translate to queerness. There are heterosexual men in this world who enjoy anal sex with women. There are heterosexual women in this world who enjoy anal sex with men. A given sexual act is not an expression of sexuality; it is coded as belonging to a certain sexuality by our society. The assumption that anal sex automatically equals homosexuality, bisexuality, or pansexuality is a false one.

And what’s more, it’s made abundantly clear that Wade does not enjoy this sexual act. He winces and frowns and looks generally nervous through what the camera shows, and when the camera pans away, he makes a few noises and then says “Nope. No.” It is evident to the audience that this is a favor he was doing to Vanessa, that he didn’t enjoy it, and that it likely won’t happen again.

“Just because he doesn’t make a pass at a dude doesn’t mean he’s not pansexual.”

While this may be true, in our unfortunate society, the base assumption is always heterosexuality. If a character does not act overtly in a queer manner, that character will always be assumed, by and large, heterosexual. This is a fault in our societal thinking, and an unfortunate one. I’m not asking for Deadpool to be campy. I’m not asking for him to fit the unfortunate stereotypes associated with queerness. But I am asking that we be given more than a token statement after the fact. And that does not happen in this film.

Combine this with the very dudebro attitude of some of the humor, and Wade doesn’t come across as the first openly pansexual superhero. He comes across as just another white dude who likes ladies and teases villains by implying they’re gay. (Did I forget to mention that? Because it definitely happens.)

I don’t blame Reynolds for this. I imagine somewhere in the reels of cut adlibbed material, there are probably (my optimistic mind hopes) jokes and statements that made it clear Wade wouldn’t have minded hooking up with anybody, regardless of gender. But this wasn’t just Reynolds’ movie. There were directors and executive producers and studios involved, and they remain as they ever were: self-assured in the belief that a queer superhero will never track well in America.

I enjoyed Deadpool. It felt like a movie length Netflix type superhero film. There was no saving the world–there was just a dude living his incredibly fucked up life. The humor and writing is sharp, and I did laugh, because there are jokes in there that are just for the fans. The tongue-in-cheek nods to us all are great. I’ll even say that Vanessa is perhaps one of the best female love interests to ever be portrayed in a superhero film–she feels like a person who has her own agency and she is clearly not just there to prop up Wade’s character arc.

But I’m still disappointed by the queerbaiting. Deadpool was supposed to be the pansexual hero we needed, but instead, he just wound up in another hetero story line we didn’t deserve.