It gives me no pleasure to report that DC’s supervillain
team-up flick, “Suicide Squad,” isn’t a good movie. I take no joy in further
stoking the flames of rivalry between DC and Marvel; as a fan of many in DC’s
stable of characters, I want nothing more than to see good films based on the
characters I’ve loved since I was a kid. No critic goes into a film wanting to
hate it — who wants to be forced to sit through a movie they’re not going to
enjoy?
But DC keeps
pitting its films directly against Marvel’s, creating a one-to-one correlation
where you can’t help but compare. “Batman v Superman” revolved around
remarkably similar themes as “Captain America: Civil War,” and now “Suicide
Squad” suffers by being held up against “Guardians of the Galaxy,” another film
that introduces an entirely new group of anti-heroes, and watches as they come
together, backed by a jukebox soundtrack of pop hits. Unfortunately, the
contrast keeps working to DC’s detriment.
I’d gotten
my hopes up ever so slightly: “supervillains save the world” is a great hook,
and the “Suicide Squad” trailers promised a shift in tone from previous films
of the DC universe, moving away from the self-seriousness that made “Man of
Steel” and “Batman v Superman” such slogs to get through. But from the first
act, when the team’s creator — ruthless government agent Amanda Waller (Viola
Davis, clearly having fun) — dumps a load of exposition on us, the film is one
misguided decision after another.
We’re
introduced to our cast of characters one-by-one, with a PowerPoint presentation
of trading card-like infographics. The title cards are so chaotic, constantly
moving, using crazy fonts, and zipping by so fast that they’re impossible to
read, which completely negates whatever purpose they might have served.
In rapid
succession, the film introduces Deadshot (a decent Will Smith), Harley Quinn
(Margot Robbie), Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney),
El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), and
Enchantress (Cara Delevingne). It’s such an enormous cast that no one registers,
not even ostensible leads — and the only characters the script seems to care
about — Harley Quinn and Deadshot, despite having the benefit of receiving two
introductions apiece. There’s one character who joins the team with almost no
introduction, and you can probably guess what almost immediately happens to
him.
The film’s
production was caught between a shift in direction for DC — when the studio
decided that what their films needed was more humor — and it feels that way.
The film is a mess tonally.
Motivation
and characterization are constantly shifting, and the plot is incoherent,
creating the sense that giant pieces are missing. The team’s eventual mission
is unclear and needlessly convoluted. It doesn’t help that the major villain
(Enchantress, an ancient witch who possesses the body of archaeologist Dr. June
Moone) wouldn’t even be a threat if the team hadn’t been formed in the first
place.
Even worse,
her big plot involves yet another giant portal in the sky (seriously comic book
movies: stop it). Writer-director David Ayer is the talented filmmaker behind
tense, action-heavy films like “End of Watch” and “Fury,” but here it feels
like he got crushed under the weight of the film.
Reportedly
the trailer house that cut the film’s promos came in late in the game to help
edit the film. The result is a film that has the texture of a trailer. It’s
wall-to-wall with on-the-nose music cues that lean on our familiarity with the
tunes in order to replace actual character development. But also like a
trailer, there are some striking images that work out of context: I enjoyed the
homage to artist Alex Ross’ painting of Harley Quinn dancing with the Joker;
Moone’s first transformation into the Enchantress is a nifty effect, although
every subsequent use of the character is laughable; and the aftermath of
Harley’s dive into a vat of acid looks pretty, even if that entire sequence is
a minefield of problems.
It’s tough
to judge Jared Leto’s Joker, since the character adds nothing to the film —
although supposedly most of his scenes were left on the cutting room floor.
It’s inexplicable why the Joker isn’t the big bad of the film. Not only would
he have made a better villain, it would also have served to justify the
presence of Harley Quinn — seriously, how much help is a crazy woman with a
baseball bat against a centuries-old, all-powerful sorceress?
Anyone who
saw last year’s heist caper “Focus,” knows that Margot Robbie has some electric
chemistry with Will Smith, but that barely comes across here. Robbie commits to
the role, but she’s let down by the writing and is forced to toss off one
clunky one-liner after another.
Plus, Harley
Quinn is a tricky character to get right. Involved in an abusive relationship
and dependent on a psychopath, when written incorrectly, she can seem to lack
agency. Ayers’ script doesn’t bother explaining what makes her fall for the
Joker in the first place, and without that kind of crucial development, we’re
left with only the most problematic aspects of the character. As a whole, the
film’s portrayal of women is questionable at best. All are either
hyper-sexualized or evil, and each have motivations only in relation to the men
in their lives.
There are
grains of something fun and enjoyable to be found amid the rubble of “Suicide
Squad,” but the film feels as though it were put together by one of its
mentally-unstable protagonists. I wouldn’t say no to another shot at bringing
these characters to movie screens, but it desperately needs a cohesive,
singular vision to see it through. C’mon DC, I’m rooting for you.
Check back on Thursday for
additional film coverage, including reviews of “Pete’s Dragon” and
“Indignation,” based on the Philip Roth novel.
This article appears in Aug 10-16, 2016.
