The Suicide Squad (2021)

 Score: 3.5 / 5

There will be much said of this movie in comparison with David Ayer's Suicide Squad, which I quite enjoy and which has become cool to hate. There will be much said of this movie as an adult version of James Gunn's family-friendly outings with Guardians of the Galaxy and its sequel. But I think this movie shares the most thematic and aesthetic qualities with Deadpool and especially Deadpool 2. Some will find that more entertaining, some more exhausting; I find it both, and while not necessarily fresh, it's certainly an interesting addition to the growing DC Universe. Gleefully violent, unapologetically irreverent, and absurdly grotesque, The Suicide Squad squirms into your consciousness and doesn't say "please love me, fans" so much as "I'm having fun; are you?"

In stark contrast to the opening of the prior film -- and yes, Gunn's movie is a sequel rather than a remake, although it has strong reboot tendencies -- The Suicide Squad spends almost no time introducing its characters before dropping them into action. The team, including Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), and Boomerang (Jai Courtney) from the first one, is rounded up by Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) for another mission. In the briefest of montages, Waller reminds the team that "Task Force X" comprises metahuman criminals with explosive chips in their skulls; if they desert the team, disobey orders, or fail, she has the power to kill them. And, given what they are often up against, their chances for survival are slim anyway. Success may allow them a chance at a decreased sentence. Unfortunately, Davis is given even less screen time in this movie, which infuriated me to no end, but at least she's still in the franchise.

Their mission: infiltrate Jotunheim, a fortress on the South American island called Corto Maltese, and destroy all traces of the mysterious "Project Starfish." The government of Corto Maltese was recently overthrown, and the anti-American regime wants whatever is in the former Nazi prison. Once the Suicide Squad lands on the beach, however, they are instantly slaughtered except for Flag and Quinn, who barely escape alive. Immediately, we learn that Waller had intended one team as a sacrifice; the other team makes landfall on another beach without incident. Waller might be a bad bitch, but so is Gunn, and this is the kind of structural playfulness that allows for subversive and morbid humor as well as narrative intrigue. We're all tired of superhero movies, generally, so we need these kinds of storytelling devices to mix things up.

Gunn has proven himself adept at handling large ensembles as both writer and director, and this is no exception. The "new" team consists of Bloodsport (Idris Elba), Peacemaker (John Cena), Polka-Dot Man (David Dastmalchian), Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior), and my personal favorite, King Shark (Sylvester Stallone), and each gets fair treatment from what could have been a bloated, unwieldy screenplay. It's a mismatched group (one that opens the doorway to similar theming that Guardians espouses), filled with undesirables and underdogs who could be heroes if given the chance. Well, maybe. Or they might just want to die. Once Flag and Quinn join with them, this movie really gets rollicking, and Gunn seems most comfortable in the chaos of conflict, redirecting focus between characters, allowing lots of vibrant, profanity-laced dialogue to bounce off the big stars and their characters' big personalities. They split up briefly, to simultaneously infiltrate Jotunheim and the new regime leader's private quarters, but playful on-screen and in-world text guides us through the setting.

While the blood-soaked action and hilarious vulgarity indicate Gunn's enthusiasm at fulfilling his hard-R ticket to ride -- and indeed, it is a wonder to behold -- this viewer found it increasingly tiresome. I felt similarly about Deadpool, where eventually pushing buttons for the sake of pushing buttons detracts from my enjoyment of boundary-pushing. Unlike in Birds of Prey, which it seems people keep forgetting about, this movie has very little emotional depth; the closest we get to it is Ratcatcher 2 fondly remembering the lessons from her father (Taika Waititi in a bizarre cameo) about their precious rats. By the climax of the film, when we learn "Project Starfish" is a Lovecraftian alien monster named Starro that uses mini-me facehuggers to turn civilians into drones (I know, it's really weird, guys), I was annoyed that everything was big CGI as buildings collapsed and scores of people died and the team came together in a big fight. On one hand, what else is a superhero movie going to do? On the other, can't a superhero movie do anything else?

Suicide Squad (2016)

Score: 3 / 5

It's Deadpool all over again. What promised to be a naughty, subversive, wickedly cool antihero movie ends up being a fun and off-beat action flick with more hero than anti, more sub than vers, and more bark than bite. It's not the most clever or entertaining in this franchise on its own terms, and it doesn't hold up against the Marvel franchise. As someone who knows next-to-nothing about DC things, I can't say as much as fans who are disappointed or confused or annoyed. But there are a few things I can say, so here goes:

I liked it. Enough, anyway, to watch it again. It's a lot of fun. I'd rather see a group of crazy punks with demented grins blasting each other for a couple hours than Henry Cavill or Batfleck (or whatever they're calling him now) and their introspective self-loathing and put-upon nobility. Though I liked that well enough, too. Dark and grimy, the film makes no apologies for its seeming ugliness, and instead piles on the atmospheric dirt, making the viewing experience one of angst and pleasure, loaded with dark humor and violence. There could have been so much more, though, and that's what hangs me up.

The movie really could have and should have gone for an R rating. I mean, it's called Suicide Squad. A little language, a little blood, some light nudity would have made a world of difference for me. Too often the picture tiptoed around what could have been fabulous fight sequences or daring character development (I mean -- hello -- Joker and Harley Quinn and their Stockholm Syndrome romance could have made for a hell of a dynamic subplot). Instead, the film reads like a censored flick on midafternoon networks, or the movie equivalent of SparkNotes, talking more than doing, editing away the sweet juices and focusing on drier meal. Don't believe me? Example: How -- after Heath Ledger's terrifying Dark Knight scenes -- are you going to make the Joker a palatable villain if, in his introductory scene, you have him only mildly scare an underling with some pseudo-sexual powerplay and then just laugh and shoot him? It's not novel; it's not even worth watching. We've seen what the character can do with just a damn pencil. Up your game, guys.

Viola Davis is the main reason I will choose to watch the movie again. She steals each scene she graces, pulling off her understated performance moment by moment, until she allows us, eventually, to see cracks in her polished and calculated disguise. It's in the little moments and her subtleties that we suspect she is, in fact, hardly a better person than the criminals and crazies she has assembled, and that she may be far more devious than any of them. I saw her crazy eyes come out more than once, guys, don't tell me I'm wrong! Joel Kinnaman was pretty great as her squad leader, and nicely matched her tone and energy even when they weren't sharing a scene. Besides them, the rest of the cast was okay, nobody really standing out. Margot Robbie was a fun Harley Quinn, to be sure, but the part was totally catering her character; her one-liners were great, but people seem to forget that someone else wrote those lines. Jay Hernandez as El Diablo was probably the only character I was constantly intrigued by. Will Smith as Deadshot was fine, but felt a mismatch; his sentimental story made him sane and (possibly worse for this picture) sympathetic. Jared Leto's Joker was fine, I guess, but it felt more strained than sincere, more caricatured than charactered (not unlike David Tennant's Barty Crouch Jr in Harry Potter). Good thing he was more of a sideshow than main event.

I think David Ayer made a fine film. Between the rating and the pressure of a franchise picture with an ensemble cast, I only wish that he had been allowed to do more. The first half of the film promised boons: Each character is introduced with style and vigor, energy worthy of comic books and a twisted joy I relished. But, like Deadpool, by the halfway mark the sentiment overcomes the story, and not long after the film descends into typical superhero arcs, where the team bands together and rallies to fight the Big Bad, save the girl, save the city, win the day, and find their temporary happy endings. Superhero movies are going to have to evolve or die soon. And between Deadpool and Suicide Squad, the studios have proven that even ready-made antiheroic subversive protagonists can't transcend the same ol' rhythms and recipes.

IMDb: Suicide Squad