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©1998–2017
Dustin Putman





Suicide Squad  (2016)
1 Star
Directed by David Ayer.
Cast: Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Joel Kinnaman, Jared Leto, Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Viola Davis, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Cara Delevingne, Karen Fukuhara, David Harbour, Ike Barinholtz, Common, Jim Parrack, Adam Beach, Scott Eastwood, Shailyne Pierre-Dixon, Corina Calderon, Ben Affleck, Ezra Miller.
2016 – 123 minutes
Rated: Rated PG-13 (for violence, disturbing behavior, suggestive content and language).
Reviewed by Dustin Putman for TheFilmFile.com, August 3, 2016.
It might be a tad harsh to call "Suicide Squad" an outright disaster, but it comes far too close for comfort to earning this misbegotten label. A lumbering, tone-deaf, barely coherent adaptation of the D.C. Comics series by John Ostrander, the film takes a seemingly can't-miss concept—one pitting bad guys looking for redemption and/or freedom against genuine evil forces—and then squanders it to criminal degrees. Despite being written and directed by David Ayer (2014's "Sabotage"), the film carries a messy made-by-committee vibe, one that has no idea what it is doing or how to do it. The characters (with one exception) couldn't be any flatter or blander. The candy-colored opening studio logos and end credits bookend a grungy, dreary, stylistically destitute visual scheme, full of boring backlot locations and desperately unimaginative action scenes. For two hours, "Suicide Squad" flops around, gasping for focus, purpose and interest. In short, it's a tacky mess.

In the wake of Superman's presumed death, government official Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) wants to ensure the protection of the planet and put the kibosh on any future unknown yet imminent threats. Her plan: to wrangle together a group of convicted criminals, offering them reduced prison sentences in exchange for their assistance with dangerous black ops missions in Gotham and the nearby, nondescript Midway City. The ragtag clan are supposedly "the worst of the worst," yet include the following: hired-assassin-with-a-heart-of-gold Floyd Lawton/Deadshot (Will Smith), who yearns to be reunited with 11-year-old daughter Zoe (Shailyne Pierre-Dixon); Dr. Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), a mentally disturbed former psychiatrist who gave up everything to be with her insane yet seductive patient Joker (Jared Leto); Digger Harkness/Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), a jovial, beer-swilling thief; Chato Santana/El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), a "pyrotechnic homeboy" who regrets taking the life of someone close to him, and Waylon Jones/Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) who, well, looks like a human crocodile. Led by Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman)—and later joined by even more members, including sword-wielding, vengeance-seeking Katana (Karen Fukuhara) and Christopher Weiss/Slipknot (Adam Beach)—the Suicide Squad head into the evacuated Midway City to stop Enchantress (Cara Delevingne), an ancient, dimension-hopping witch who has possessed the body of Flag's archaeologist girlfriend June Moone. Enchantress and her demon brother Incubus (Alain Chanoine) are out to reclaim her very heart, currently in Waller's possession, which will allow them to take over the world. Or something like that.

"Suicide Squad" is seemingly composed of shots which would—and did—work great for the purposes of trailers and TV ads, but add up to precious little in the film proper. A clothesline of scenes featuring the barest of connective tissue, the film is a haphazardly constructed dud with a creatively bankrupt script. Before the lame, instantly forgettable storyline comes into play, the first act introduces the hard-edged protagonists in clunky, half-hearted flashbacks, some lasting no more than fifteen seconds. When the rare attempt is made to humanize them, emotions are painted in the broadest, soapiest, most pandering melodramatic strokes. With the exception of Deadshot and Harley Quinn, there isn't a hint of substance or chemistry between any of them. As the tedious narrative trudges along without urgency or forward momentum, one question remains: why should the viewer care about these people when the screenplay clearly doesn't?

It is tough to not feel sorry for the actors, who give their all but are left stranded by first-draft material that never should have been put before cameras. If there is a lead, it is Will Smith's (2015's "Focus") career hitman Floyd Lawton/Deadshot, but there is only so much that can be done when the very foundation of his part is so superficially realized. Most of the time, it is easy to forget Smith is even starring in the movie. Supporting players like Joel Kinnaman (2014's "RoboCop"), Jai Courtney (2015's "Terminator Genisys") and an unrecognizable, tattooed Jay Hernandez (2016's "Bad Moms") strike as so disconnected from one another they might as well be performing all their scenes in separate rooms. As the no-nonsense Amanda Waller, Viola Davis (2015's "Blackhat") retains her dignity as she always, without fail, does, but she doesn't seem entirely confident with what she has to work with. As June Moone/Enchantress, Cara Delevingne (2015's "Paper Towns") emanates discomfort for every second she is onscreen, and it doesn't help that her low-rent, Zuul-wannabe villainess spends the bulk of her time standing at an altar as hazy, swirling CGI whisks around her. Her wholly computer-generated brother, Incubus, is even worse, looking like a cross between Tim Curry's Darkness from 1985's "Legend" and a ceramic knick-knack from Pier 1 Imports.

In taking on the iconic Joker—a role which has already been indelibly and very differently portrayed by Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger—Jared Leto (2013's "Dallas Buyers Club") reportedly went method, staying in character during the shoot and meeting with doctors and real-life psychopaths as preparation for doing this green-haired, painted-faced supervillain complete justice. His committed, extreme efforts were all for naught; ill-established from the start and little more than an extended cameo, the Joker is awkwardly shoehorned into the narrative with only superficial ties to the story. As with nearly every other actor on hand, Ayer's screenplay wastes Leto to such an outrageous degree it almost feels like a cruel joke.

And then there's Margot Robbie (2016's "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot"), the production's single saving grace as splashy, playful lunatic Harley Quinn. One yearns to find out more about her past, her psyche, and the twisted events which led her to give herself over to the maniacal Joker, but none of this is broached. Indeed, whatever nuance there is in the character can be attributed to Robbie's inspired turn. She is the star of the show—and deserving of a better movie to showcase this character's uniquely unpredictable, vivacious personality.

"I've lost one family, I'm not gonna lose another one," Diablo growls near the end of "Suicide Squad." It would be a lovely sentiment if not for ringing resoundingly false, his relationships with the rest of his squad members so shallow and underexplored it would be a surprise if they even knew each other's names by the conclusion. Charmless, depthless and choppily edited, the film exhibits an uncomfortable lack of vision. Is it meant to be a serious and gritty spin-off of "Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice?" A tongue-in-cheek dark comedy? Writer-director David Ayer never makes a confident decision either way, his picture ending up in a wishy-washy purgatory where $175-million has been blown on a junk-store plot, boring villains, and a gang of misused anti-heroes with nothing to do and nowhere, physically or emotionally, to go. Not even a soundtrack featuring The Rolling Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil" and Panic! at the Disco's cover of "Bohemian Rhapsody" can save this mishmash. In terms of the promise it held and the folly of what has found its way to the screen, "Suicide Squad" is easily one of 2016's most disappointing films.
© 2016 by Dustin Putman
Dustin Putman

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