Deadpool 2: There butt for the grace of God go all of us (to the theater).

I've been on about this before, but one of the things that make so many superhero punch-ups so deadly dull is the Toughness Inconsistency Index, which states that the amount of punishment a hero can take before being incapacitated varies according to the needs of the plot, as opposed to being related in any significant way to his or her actual powers. Happily, that's not an issue with Deadpool, since his powers dictate that he can bounce back from just about anything, even being torn in half. (Spoiler alert?) With Mr. Pool, watching him get smashed into putty is just part of the fun. Anyway, I liked this one better than the first, much to my own surprise.

In other news, Gemma Arterton definitely has the presence and talent to carry a film, and it's impressive to see her shift from the light touch required for something like Their Finest to heavy going like this week's The Escape. But even she can't quite overcome the story.

Two films a week seems like the best I can manage ever since the lobotomy, but Scott continues to pick up the slack and then some. This week, he found time to hate dogs and old ladies, to puzzle of over the mystery of Grace Jones, and also to discover "one of the great screen romances in recent memory." Plus, he went searching for the X factor in Movies@Home.

Opening but unreveiwed: Wim Wenders' doc-for-hire Pope Francis: A Man of His Word.