....
Soon after the greetings were completed, and Regal was offered a quiet seat, the team went back to their work.
Ryan Reynolds stood in what could only be described as organized chaos.
The warehouse had been converted into Deadpool's unofficial pre-production headquarters - costume tests in one corner, weapons training in another, stunt choreography in the center, and an entire wall dedicated to storyboards that mapped out every action sequence in the film.
It was exactly the kind of scrappy, make-every-dollar-count setup that felt appropriate for a character who would probably mock expensive production offices.
Shawn Levy emerged from behind a rack of costume prototypes, holding two versions of Deadpool's mask.
"Okay, we have got the decision down to these two. One has slightly larger eye holes for better visibility, the other looks more screen-accurate but you will be half-blind wearing it."
Reynolds examined both masks. "Which one makes me look more like a sexual Tyrannosaurus?"
"I am sorry, what?"
"Never mind. Movie reference." Reynolds held up the more screen-accurate mask. "This one. If Wade can't see properly through the mask, that's even better - gives me an excuse to make jokes about poor costume design while literally wearing the poorly designed costume."
"Meta commentary about the actual production constraints." Levy said, nodding appreciatively. "Very Deadpool."
"Every limitation is an opportunity." Reynolds said, pulling on the mask.
It fit snugly, the eye holes indeed smaller than ideal.
"Yeah, this is perfect. I can barely see, which means I will naturally move differently - more cautious, and reliant on other senses. Makes the character feel less superhuman, more human dealing with superhuman circumstances."
He turned to look at his reflection in a mirror someone had propped against the wall.
The suit was still prototype stage - red and black panels roughly assembled, not yet the final version.
But even in rough form, it was working.
The design was balanced , intimidating and absurd, which was exactly Deadpool's aesthetic.
"How's the mobility?" Levy asked.
Reynolds did a few test movements - high kicks, spins, drawing imaginary weapons. "Good. Really good, actually. The fabric has enough stretch that I am not restricted, but enough structure that it holds the shape."
Marcus Williams, the stunt coordinator Levy had brought on, approached with a concerned expression. "Ryan, we need to talk about the freeway sequence. I have been breaking down Regal's notes, and what he's describing is... ambitious."
"How ambitious?" Reynolds pulled off the mask, his hair staticky.
Marcus unrolled a massive storyboard sequence across a table. "The scene is eight minutes long. Deadpool on top of a moving car, fighting multiple enemies while the car is flipping. He's using guns, swords, and hand-to-hand combat. All while breaking the fourth wall and narrating to the camera."
"So, a normal Tuesday for Wade Wilson." Reynolds said.
"A nightmare Tuesday for stunt coordination." Marcus corrected. "We're talking extensive wire work, precision timing with practical car flips, and you performing while delivering dialogue to camera. The degree of difficulty is insane."
Reynolds studied the storyboards.
Regal had annotated them heavily - camera angles, Wade's dialogue cues, specific beat-by-beat choreography that would intercut between present-day action and flashback sequences.
"Can we do it?" Reynolds asked.
"Can we? Yes. On a $70 million budget with our schedule? That's the question."
Shawn Levy joined them at the table. "Huh… is it that complicated?"
Marcus pointed to different panels in the storyboard–
"First issue: the car flips need to be practical for close-up shots but CG for wide shots. That means coordinating with the VFX team to ensure continuity.
"Second issue: Ryan's doing his own stunts where possible, but the wire work requires weeks of training.
"Third issue: the scene is designed to look like one continuous shot, which means every element needs to flow seamlessly."
"How long to prep?" Levy asked.
"If we want to do this right? Six weeks of stunt training, two weeks of wire work rehearsal, and a week of pre-visualization with the actual vehicles."
Reynolds checked his mental calendar. "We start filming in nine weeks. That gives us... exactly the amount of time we need if nothing goes wrong."
"Which means something will definitely go wrong." Levy said dryly.
"Obviously. It's a film production." Reynolds turned to Marcus. "What do you need from me?"
"Training schedule, five days a week, four hours a day. Weapons work, wire work, and fight choreography. You will be sore, you will be exhausted, and you will probably hate me by week three."
"Sold. When do we start?"
"Tomorrow, 6 AM."
Reynolds groaned. "Of course it's 6 AM. Because Wade Wilson would definitely be a morning person."
….
While Marcus began drawing up training schedules, Reynolds moved to the costume area where–
Seren Seraphsail - fully blended into her role of lead costume designer, was making final adjustments to the Deadpool suit.
"We have solved the weapon holster problem." Seren said, showing him the revised design. "Magnetic attachments here and here, so you can draw the katanas smoothly. The gun holsters are positioned for quick-draw but won't interfere with high kicks."
She demonstrated the mechanism, and Reynolds practiced drawing the prop weapons.
The motion felt natural, which was crucial - Wade Wilson was supposed to be a trained mercenary, and clumsy weapon handling would destroy that credibility.
"What about the battle damage?" Reynolds asked. "Wade gets shot multiple times during the film. How are we handling the healing factor visually?"
Seren pulled out a series of suit variations. "We have created multiple versions with progressive damage. Clean suit, light damage, moderate damage, and completely shredded.
"For the healing factor, we are using a combination of practical prosthetics and CG augmentation."
She showed him reference photos of the prosthetic work - latex appliances that would show Wade's scarred skin beneath torn costume sections.
"The key is making the scarring look painful but not grotesque." Seren explained. "Wade's disfigurement is part of his character, but we don't want it to be horror-movie gore.
"It needs to feel tragic - this was a handsome man who has been destroyed physically and mentally."
Reynolds studied prosthetics. "These are really good. Uncomfortable to wear, I am guessing?"
"Extremely. You will be in the makeup chair for three hours every shoot day. But the performance benefits are worth it - you will feel the character through the physical transformation."
"Method acting through suffering." Reynolds said. "Wade would appreciate the irony."
….
By afternoon, Levy called everyone together for a full production meeting.
The warehouse's main area had been set up with folding chairs facing a projection screen where the complete storyboards would be reviewed sequence by sequence.
Present were: Reynolds, Levy, Marcus (stunt coordinator), Seren (costume), Leo Martinez (cinematographer - borrowed from Regal's Superman production for consultation), and about fifteen other department heads.
"Okay." Levy said, pulling up the first sequence. "Let's walk through the entire film shot by shot. I want everyone to understand how their department fits into the larger vision."
The storyboards were remarkably detailed - Regal's annotations combined with additional notes from Levy and Reynolds's own contributions during their script development sessions.
….
Within the next three hours they went through multiple sequences, with detailed storyboards showing the entire action sequence.
The meeting dispersed, people breaking into smaller groups to discuss specific challenges.
Reynolds found himself alone for a moment, staring at the wall of storyboards.
Two more weeks.
In two weeks, they would be filming the opening sequence. In fifteen weeks, they should wrap production.
In six months, they would finish the post-production.
Soon within nine months, it will be decided that Deadpool would either revolutionize superhero films or become a spectacular cautionary tale about giving actors too much creative control.
….
By evening, the team moved back onto the wire work.
The harness was exactly as uncomfortable as Reynolds had anticipated.
Marcus and his team had rigged him into a complex system of wires that would allow them to simulate Deadpool's acrobatic combat style.
The harness itself was hidden beneath his clothes, with attachment points at his hips, back, and shoulders.
"We're going to start simple." Marcus explained.
"How simple will it be?'" Reynolds asked, feeling the harness pull against his body as the wires tightened.
"You will only be eight feet off the ground."
"Oh, is that all?"
"And you will be spinning at moderate velocity."
"Of course."
"While drawing weapons and delivering dialogue to the camera."
"Naturally. Because Wade Wilson does everything the hard way."
Marcus grinned. "Now you're getting it. Ready?"
"No. Do it anyway."
The wires lifted Reynolds off the ground smoothly. The sensation was disorienting, not quite flying, but not grounded either.
His body wanted to curl into a ball protectively, but Marcus had instructed him to keep his limbs extended for better control.
"Good!" Marcus called. "Now rotate ninety degrees to your right. Use your core to control the movement."
Reynolds engaged his core muscles, trying to rotate smoothly. The movement was jerky at first, but on the second attempt, he managed a cleaner turn.
"Better! Again, but this time, draw the katana as you rotate. The weapon draw needs to be part of the movement flow."
Reynolds reached for the prop katana attached to his back. Drawing it while suspended and rotating required coordination he didn't naturally possess, but after several attempts, he started getting the timing right.
"Now the hard part." Marcus said. "Dialogue while moving. We're going to lift you to twelve feet, rotate you through a full 360, and you're going to deliver one of Wade's fourth-wall breaks from the script."
"Which line?"
"Your choice. Whatever feels natural while spinning through the air."
Reynolds thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Ready."
The wires lifted him higher this time. As he began rotating, Reynolds focused on the camera that had been set up to capture the test footage.
"You're probably wondering." he began, slightly breathless from the movement, "How I got into this situation. Well, funny story, turns out when you piss off every arms dealer in the tri-state area, they tend to send their friends. Who knew?"
He completed the rotation, drew the katana mid-spin, only slightly awkwardly, and continued: "And yes, I am aware this looks ridiculous. Man in red spandex, spinning like a discount gymnastics routine while talking to himself. But here's the thing—"
The wires suddenly dropped him three feet, and Reynolds let out an undignified yelp.
"Sorry!" the wire operator called. "Tension miscalculation!"
Reynolds hung there, now at a crooked angle, still holding the katana. After a beat, he looked at the camera and said in perfect Deadpool tone: "See? Budget constraints. Can't even afford professional riggers."
The entire crew burst out laughing.
"Cut!" Marcus called, still chuckling. "I would have said it was bad… if it's a normal movie. But this is exactly what you were looking for right?"
"So you're saying my near-death experience was good for the character?" Reynolds asked as the wires lowered him back to the ground.
"I am saying your instinct to stay in character and make a joke instead of breaking the take was good for the character. This is going to work, Ryan."
Reynolds removed the harness, his muscles already protesting. Tomorrow morning's 6 AM training session was going to be brutal.
But he was smiling.
For the first time in years, maybe since he had first read a Deadpool comic, he felt like everything was falling into place.
….
Most of the crew had left for the evening, but Reynolds remained, sitting alone in the warehouse reviewing footage from the day's tests on a laptop.
The screen showed him in the Deadpool suit, moving through fight choreography, delivering lines, and yes, spinning awkwardly on wires while making jokes about budget constraints.
It looked good.
Yet to be perfected - they had months of refinement ahead. But the core was there. The tone was right and the character felt real.
"You're still here?"
Reynolds looked up to see Levy approaching, carrying two beers from the mini-fridge someone had installed in the corner.
"Couldn't help myself." Reynolds admitted, accepting a beer. "I wanted to see if what we're building actually works."
"And does it?"
"Yeah." Reynolds took a sip. "Yeah, I think it does. We're making something genuinely different here. Not just another superhero movie, but something that comments on superhero movies while being one."
Levy sat beside him, watching the laptop screen. "Regal was right about you, you know. When he said you were the only person who could do this."
"Regal says a lot of things."
"But he is usually right." Levy paused. "I have worked on enough productions to recognize when something special is happening. This is one of those times. You have got a clear vision, you are committed to serving the character over your ego, and you are willing to do the hard work."
"I am just trying not to screw it up." Reynolds said honestly.
"That's exactly the right attitude." Levy finished his beer. "Get some rest."
"Can't wait."
After Levy left, Reynolds remained for another hour, making notes on the footage, thinking about adjustments to choreography and dialogue delivery.
His phone buzzed one final time. A text from an unknown number:
[UNKNOWN: Hey Ryan, it's Henry Cavill. Regal gave me your number. Heard you are producing Deadpool. Just wanted to say good luck from one person swimming in the superhero deep end to another. - Henry]
Reynolds smiled and replied:
[REYNOLDS: Thanks man. Same to you with Superman. Try not to let the cape strangle you during wire work. It has opinions.]
[HENRY: Noted. If you survive Deadpool, we should compare war stories.]
[REYNOLDS: Deal. May the comic book gods be with us both.]
Reynolds closed his laptop, turned off the lights, and headed home.
Tomorrow, the real work began.
But tonight, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were going to pull this off.
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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