In the
South American island nation of Corto Maltese, a new anti-American regime has
overthrown the government, gaining access to a weapon of extraterrestrial
origin. Intelligence director Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) dispatches Task Force
X to infiltrate the country and destroy the research lab housing the weapon.
The squad is made up of incarcerated villains with unique abilities who will
receive time off their sentences…if they survive.
Writer-director
James Gunn’s follow-up to David Ayers’ 2016 Suicide Squad is a bigger,
brasher, brighter affair. Though it retains a similar irreverence, it benefits
from improved plotting and pacing, Gunn’s singular vision, and energy to spare.
That vision – gory slapstick with a heart – has admittedly limited appeal, but
anyone who found Guardians of the Galaxy’s motley mix of bizarre misfits
endearing will likely have a similar reaction.
Though The
Suicide Squad boasts a huge cast, many appearances are brief: the film
lives up to its name, after all. Among those we spend the most time with are
returnees Waller, team leader Col. Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), and Harley Quinn
(Margot Robbie) as well as newcomers Bloodsport (Idris Elba), Peacemaker (John
Cena), King Shark (voiced by Sylvester Stallone), Ratcatcher II (Daniela
Melchior), and Polka Dot Man (David Dastmalchian). Waller remains the world’s scariest
bureaucrat (kudos to Davis for bringing unparalleled ruthlessness and an epicly
frosty glare), and Kinnaman as the straightlaced Flag is less wooden this time
around. Harley’s arc and importance to the film both seem smaller, but a la
Hugh Jackman and Wolverine, this is a character that Robbie owns even when the
material isn’t up to her level. Bloodsport was originally meant to be Will
Smith’s assassin character Deadshot, and while the two characters are
superficially similar (lethal Black marksmen who are also fathers), Elba made
the role his own. He functions as an audience quasi-surrogate, a competent professional
surrounded by oddballs and (seeming) losers. As Peacemaker, John Cena is his
perfect foil. Like Marvel’s U.S. Agent, it’s a “Captain America as jingoistic
jerk” role, with Cena’s hyperconfidence distracting everyone from the stupidity
of his costume (which is still the butt of at least one joke). King Shark
replaces Killer Croc as the team’s comic relief monster, but he’s given both more
personality (awkward and friendless) and more dialogue. A bipedal, socially
unaware shark that sounds like Rocky doing Hulk-speak makes for a hilarious
choice. Ratcatcher II, daughter of the first, is an original creation, a largely
good-natured young woman who can control a legion of rodents. Given that Gunn
chose to make the Ratcatchers sympathetic characters, excising their championing
of the homeless population seems like a missed opportunity. And then there’s Abner
“Polka Dot Man” Krill, a study in contradictions. His brightly dotted costume manages
to out-silly Peacemaker’s, yet the dots that he tosses are actually
extradimensional energy and can pack quite a punch. Krill was experimented on by
his scientist mother to become a superhero, the trauma of which has taken its
toll. This would ordinarily make him a tragic figure (and Dastmalchian, who
grew up being teased for his vitiligo, taps into the character’s
vulnerability), but his mental illness manifests as him seeing every character with
his mother’s face, which is clearly played for laughs.
While this
was a stumble, the film is otherwise more successful in layering its wackiness
with more meaningful messaging. The American squad’s meddling in Corto Maltese’s
affairs is played as a critique of imperialism, and in a welcome rarity for films
that go down this road, the anti-American regime is acknowledged as being as
horrible (if not more so) than the pro-Washington one that it replaced. Even
the film’s biggest threat is one that would have likely posed no danger were it
just left alone.
Freewheeling
and funny, The Suicide Squad makes no apologies for its excesses, and there
are plenty who simply won’t be on Gunn’s bandwidth. But if stylistically violent
action-comedy holds any appeal, here’s one that offers more than mere wisecracks
and explosions.
