Tone-deaf 'Suicide Squad' a superhuman disaster
“Suicide Squad” is such a mess there’s almost too much to say about it.
Acting as a sorta-rebuttal to the lumbering and grim “Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice,” DC’s “Suicide Squad” attempts to be a lighthearted romp about murderous superhumans. Recent reports about the production confirm what is blatantly obvious onscreen: “Suicide Squad” is another dark slog of a movie recut with peppy rock music and tacky one-liners. The reassembled product routinely contradicts its own confused worldview.
Set in a world after Superman *redacted* in “Dawn of Justice,” the “Suicide Squad” of the title is a team of supervillains brought together by shady government agent Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) to combat other superhuman villainy. The movie brushes aside the logic of that terrible decision to instead focus on a tedious series of character introductions scored by on-the-nose pop anthems.
We meet Deadshot (Will Smith), a sharp-shooting assassin who maintains a loving relationship with his teenage daughter, despite constantly telling her about how to be a cool murderer. Next we meet Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) a psychiatrist-turned-deranged killer with a complicated relationship with Batman-nemesis The Joker (Jared Leto).
Next comes a bunch of other shallow characters with far less charisma than Smith and Robbie, and then, somewhere around the half-hour mark, some weird magic stuff happens and the Suicide Squad fights bubbly, faceless poop monsters.
If it sounds like I don’t care enough to properly describe the basic setup of the film, you’re right. Director David Ayer and his studio tamperers/co-conspirators don’t care either. There’s no logic to any story or character decision. The only consistent choice is how the film lingers incessantly on Harley Quinn’s hot pants.
For all the pre-release hype surrounding Leto’s take on the Joker, “Suicide Squad” contains less than 15 minutes of the performance, and his scenes could be removed from the film without altering the main story. Reports suggest Ayer ditched the Joker content when the studio opted for a lighter tone. The result on the screen is a half-formed, overstylized imitation of Heath Ledger’s performance in “The Dark Knight.”
Most of Joker’s scenes fit into an extended backstory for Harley, herself an extremely popular character in the DC Universe but one tied to a tricky origin story of abuse. The Joker-Harley relationship intends to be disturbing, particularly in how Harley’s devotion to the madman is so dependent on violence and control. The flashbacks to the abusive relationship are brief, but they contrast too much with what the rest of the movie depicts as deranged true love.
A better movie could be made about the Joker and Harley’s twisted romance, but “Suicide Squad” tries to shorthand the relationship in a way that fits snugly alongside all the cool punk violence. It results in Harley’s character being stripped of her depth and a Joker iteration defined mostly by Ayer and Leto’s garish makeup and costume choices.
The Harley-Joker dynamic frustrates the most because it hints at something a previous cut of the film might have addressed. Then again, with a performance as confused as Leto’s, maybe the studio made a wise decision removing his stench from the final product.
Regardless, the rest of “Suicide Squad” assembles plenty of other recurrent blockbuster mistakes — a forgettable villain with confusing intentions, violent-but-inert action sequences, sour one-liners, an overabundance of underwritten characters, a final act riddled with dramatic cliches, just to name a few.
Only a few charismatic performances can break out from the barrage of poor choices. Davis excels at chewing villainous dialogue, and Smith and Robbie share some electric banter here and there. Ben Affleck still plays a good Batman, but he’s only in the movie for about eight seconds.
The problems with “Suicide Squad” are abundant. On one hand, you almost have to see it to understand the madness. On the other hand, the movie is terrible. Stay home.
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Tyler Wilson can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.