Review: Suicide Squad
Undeniably disappointing but not without glimmers of promise, Suicide Squad yet again shows that Warner Brothers is still struggling in its attempts to build the DC Extended Universe. It may be a broken record by this point, but it bears repeating that Marvel has proven itself peerless when it comes to crafting the universe, developing and integrating its characters, and appealing to a broader audience whilst still ensuring its fanboys are satisfied. One can argue over the quality of their output, but there is no denying the simple fact that Marvel has a keen understanding not only of its overall brand narrative but the individual stories that comprise that brand.
As with last year's Fantastic Four reboot from 20th Century Fox, Suicide Squad comes with tales of behind-the-scenes scrambling. After the critically and commercially disappointing showing for Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (it hasn't even cleared 900 million worldwide!) earlier this March, Warner Brothers reportedly edited its own version of Suicide Squad, pitted its version against director David Ayer's cut, and released an end product that was a compromised mash of the two. Both Ayer and Jared Leto, who plays the Joker, have spoken of numerous scenes being taken out. Batman v Superman experienced the same situation though to a far lesser degree; director Zack Snyder's extended 3-hour cut is supposed to be a far more coherent telling than what hit the theaters. Conflicts between studio heads and directors are nothing new, but they shouldn't be evident in the final result nor should audiences need a director's cut or an extended version to actually understand what they already paid good money for months earlier. If Suicide Squad conveys one thing with clarity, it's that behind-the-scenes confusion. With its messy narrative, shifting tonality, nondescript action scenes, and plain awkwardness of execution, it resembles nothing less than a car crash caught on film. Yet car crashes have their moments of beauty...
Suicide Squad, essentially a riff of Seven Samurai and The Dirty Dozen, centers around the assemblage of a group of supervillains by federal agent Amanda Waller (Viola Davis), whose badassery rivals that of everyone combined. Picking up where Batman v Superman left off, Waller believes that gathering a team of sociopaths is the best defense against any potential threats the world or the universe has to offer. Superman may have been a metahuman, she tells the suits at the Pentagon, but he at least shared their values. What if the next Superman doesn't?
Thus we're introduced to the members of the Suicide Squad, most of whom are holed up in the super-maximum security prison called Belle Reve. There's Deadshot (Will Smith), the world's deadliest sniper whose weakness is his young daughter. There's the heavily tattooed former gangbanger El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), who refuses to ever wield his pyromaniacal skills again after a tragic incident with his wife and children. The Aussie Boomerang (Jai Courtney) is a deranged, possibly alcoholic thief who was caught by the Flash (Ezra Miller in a blink-and-miss cameo) whilst Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) is a reptile-skinned mutant whose underwater skills will be of value at some point. There's also scientist June Moon (Cara Delevingne, a striking presence but so far out of her depth here), who is inhabited by the spirit of The Enchantress, a centuries-old witch who, according to Waller, is more powerful than anything they've ever known. Waller possesses the heart of the Enchantress, which affords her control over June (who is understandably reluctant to turn into the evil spirit) and, by extension, Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), the man assigned by Waller to keep the squad in line and who happens to be hopelessly in love with June. He also has the sword-wielding Katana (Karen Fukuhara) by his side for added protection.
And then there is Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), the best and most compelling of the crew. A former psychiatrist assigned to the Joker, Harley is rendered looney tunes by her love for the green-haired gangster clown, allowing herself to be electroshocked and drowned in a vat of acid in order to convince him of her devotion. They become the Tony Montana and Elvira of Gotham City, their dysfunctional and abusive union severed when Batman (Ben Affleck) ruins date night, punches Harley in the face, and locks her up in Belle Reve. Harley is arguably the deadliest of them all, far outpacing her beau in sheer crazy and more fearless than the tough guys that surround her. Decked out in the hottest of hot pants, a tattered tee with "Daddy's Little Monster" written across it, a jacket with "Property of the Joker" on its back, and brandishing a baseball bat, Robbie can't help but steal the show on looks alone but she transfixes with her performance as well, never ignoring the tragic figure beneath the saucy and sarcastic facade. Leto barely keeps up with her; his portrayal is all cackle and little else.
Suicide Squad is one of the most exposition-heavy comic book films in recent memory. Most everyone gets an introduction and back story, most of which is made redundant by the musical cues that tell you everything you need to know about the characters. If those musical tracks aren't enough for you, there's Waller's explanations. If those still aren't enough for you, then there are the flashbacks that occur throughout the film. You can argue that it was a near-impossible task to establish so many characters in so little time and still have room left to tell an actual story. You can point to the fact that Iron Man, Captain America and Thor were introduced in individual films before The Avengers came to pass. And yet there is Guardians of the Galaxy, which also dealt with second-string characters that were completely divorced from any previous films. Guardians may have had less characters to corral, but those characters were clearly defined, you understood what they were fighting for and who they were fighting against, and you weren't saddled with back stories that stuttered the overall pacing of the film.
Suicide Squad suffers from the overload - Boomerang and Killer Croc could have easily been jettisoned, not to mention Katana - as well as a boring set of villains who would not have been out of place in any Ghostbusters film (in fact, the film often plays like a Ghostbusters rehash) and tremendously murky plotting. That murkiness extends to the cinematography and set design. There's nothing wrong with embracing the darkness of the material and the characters, but is it too much to ask for the action to be visible? Then again, the action sequences are so generic that the shadows and fog may have been increased to hide how unimaginative they are. Ayer moves his characters from one indistinguishable set to another, from one noisy and chaotic battle to another, but the movie itself never gains any genuine momentum. For a film about teamwork, the squad never completely gels - the moment when they supposedly become a team is never as rousing as it ought to be. It's an odd viewing experience, somewhat akin to a tranquilised acid trip.
The film is sure to make money, but will it leave you wanting more? Yes, but only if Margot Robbie is front and center. Otherwise, Warner Brothers should take the advice of one of the film's own characters and shut the whole thing down.
Suicide Squad
Directed by: David Ayer
Written by: David Ayer
Starring: Will Smith, Jared Leto, Margot Robbie, Joel Kinnaman, Viola Davis, Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Ike Barinholtz, Scott Eastwood, Cara Delevingne, Karen Fukuhara, Adam Beach, Jim Parrack, Common, Ben Affleck, Kenneth Choi, Ezra Miller
