‘Are you guys gonna fuck or fight?’. This question, posed by a bartender to the titular characters of Deadpool and Wolverine, is perhaps the film’s most provocative. It cuts right to the core of their chaotic chemistry. Moments later, Deadpool holds a gun to Wolverine’s head, an obvious homage to the scene in X-Men: First Class where James McAvoy’s Charles Xavier does the same to Michael Fassbender’s Magneto. Whilst both films center the relationship between their male leads, queer aspects of these relationships are either brushed aside or rooted in comedy. From Angel binding his wings in X-Men: Last Stand to Fassbender gazing into McAvoy’s eyes and proclaiming “I want you by my side” in X-Men First Class, queerness is practically bursting at the seams. By contrast, Deadpool and Wolverine forgoes all subtlety, blurring the lines between violence and intimacy. The effect is comic – an interplay of slapstick violence and sexual tension. And in both, these queer sub currents are sacrificed for the sake of a heterosexual fairytale ending.

It is not difficult to interpret superpowers as a metaphor for queerness, but the X-Men franchise makes these undercurrents explicit. Superhero powers are usually the consequence of mutation, meaning marginalisation is central to the genre. Mutations – whether invisible, inflicted or obvious – keep their bearers firmly on the margins of society. Mystique (born with blue skin but able to change her appearance) can only be accepted if she hides her true self. Angel tries to shave off his feathered wings, while characters like Cyclops and Havok, with their destructive and uncontrollable powers, can’t exist in society without endangering themselves and others. 

Yet despite this marginalization – existing at the fringes of society and forever on the precipice between hatred and love – mutants occupy a significant role in society. As heroes or villains, covert CIA operatives or science experiments, they are a part of society which cannot be ignored. This theme usually drives a moral message, exemplified by villain origin stories of characters excluded from society, or others who are determined to heroically change the minds and hearts of the majority. However, one form of marginalization which remains problematic in the superhero universe is that of queerness. 

Despite moments of sincere emotion in Deadpool and Wolverine, the sexual tension between the two male leads exists primarily as comic relief. One ‘fight’ scene, for example, ends with a car bouncing suggestively,  followed by a shot of the two sleeping next to each other.  Deadpool’s sexual reactions to Wolverine, references to pegging, and homoerotic imagery—like Wolverine on his hands and knees—are all played for laughs. The soundtrack also contributes to this sensation, as the aforementioned fight scene is scored with “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease. But hey, some like it rough. Of course, it’s not wrong to find these moments funny – they’re designed to be. The problem lies with the executives at Marvel who allow homosexuality to be perceived only through the lens of comedy.

Did 21C Fox do it better? In First class, the homoerotic relationship between Magneto and Charles Xavier is less explicit, but infinitely more tragic. It is perhaps because the relationship between the two men is never made sexual that it is treated with more sincerity.  Their most intimate moment comes when Fassbender cradles McAvoy’s body in his arms after paralysing him, dubbed the “beach divorce” by fans. However, this is saved from being overtly romantic – Fassbender tells McAvoy they’re “brothers” before clarifying “all of us, together”. In X-men: Apocalypse, Magneto’s destructive quest for revenge is halted by a vision of Xavier, placing their bond above the loss of his wife and child. This relationship, which McAvoy described as First Class’ “emotional core”, ultimately forms the basis of the conflict for the following movies. The key difference is tone: while X-Men treats queer relationships with a suitable sincerity, its representation is limited and desexualized. In contrast, Deadpool uses humour to explore homoeroticism that would be scandalously explicit  in the more intimate tone of the X-Men films. God forbid the gays are taken seriously. In both cases, there is a glaring trade-off.

Ultimately, both films reaffirm heteronormativity. First Class features a tender kiss between Charles and Rose Byrne’s Moira MacTaggert. Deadpool and Wolverine concludes with Deadpool holding Vanessa’s hand. After two hours of violent homoerotic tension, Wolverine is only his wingman. The relationship between Deadpool and Wolverine, though foundational to the plot, is sidelined to provide the fairy-tale ending between man and woman. The viewer is clearly reminded that whilst the two men have spent the film penetrating each other violently, they will always revert to the heterosexual. Homosexuality is the humorous possibility, not the romantic actuality.

Ultimately, Deadpool and Wolverine is a fun watch  and much of that fun comes from the dynamic between the male leads. However, the treatment of this relationship also reveals a deeper issue: the way superhero movies flirt with homosexuality but refuse to embrace it. Instead, queer narratives are made into punchlines or disguised as ‘brotherhood’ and then dropped entirely. Either way, they are hastily abandoned – ironic, for films which critique that very practice of marginalization.