Hugh Jackman & Dafne Keen in Logan

Logan

{Logan opens in Seattle on Friday, March 3 and is screening at Pacific Science Center IMAX, Regal Thornton Place, and AMC Pacific Place}

Holycrap. I was sure that depressing-as-fuck trailer for Logan with Johnny Cash’s cover of “Hurt” had to be some kind of ruse, because there’s NO WAY they’d make an X-Men movie that dark, right?!?! Wrong. Omg so wrong. Logan is brutally dark in all the best ways.

The Wolverine in Logan is old, sick, and broken {I didn’t even know Hugh Jackman could look that broken, but WOW}. He’s drinking like whoa, driving bachelorettes around in a leased limo, and trying not to kill anyone by ripping them to shreds {some days, not very successfully}. It’s all he can do just to stay alive in order to keep a mentally fragile Charles Xavier {*SOB*} from accidentally blowing up the world with his super brain.

Logan is trying to hide, and he’s doing a real good job of it. It’s been 25 years since a new mutant was born so no one remembers the X-Men anymore – except a fanatic named Gabriela who tracks Logan down and begs him for help getting her and her little girl to a sanctuary.

After bribing him with $50,000, Logan reluctantly agrees … which is exactly when shit goes south. The girl, Laura {Dafne Keen deserves ALL THE AWARDS right now for her facial expressions alone}, is broody, silent, untrusting, and also happens to have adamantium claws, which the Transigen folks consider valuable property {Oh secret government agencies. Why you always gotta be so evil?}.

Transigen’s cocky leader Donald Pierce commands a crapload of minions {REAVERS!} to follow Logan and Laura across country, which basically translates to the highest body count of any X-Men film ever. You know what’s better than one pair of slashing claws? Two, with one of those pairs belonging to an enraged girl child who can leap on men’s backs and rip their throats out in a matter of seconds.

Yeah, it’s pretty boss.

I don’t want to downplay the depressingly bleak outlook this film has, even with some comic relief {Stephen Merchant at his absolute best as Caliban} and the inevitable over-the-top effect shredded flesh + gallons of blood can have on a film, because this is the saddest X-Men film ever. And it’s also the best. Ever.

Go see it. You’ll be surprised, I promise.

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