Somewhere out there, high up in a bar in Wayne Tower, surrounded by sycophants and scantily-dressed barmaids, an exec for DC Entertainment is sitting with an exec from Time-Warner, and they are doing consolation shots as they collectively wonder how in the hell Suicide Squad is failing so miserably. Perhaps they are comforted, if only a little, by the fact that so many DC fanboys and fangirls are lobbying to shut down Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic for panning the film so badly. At least they have the satisfaction of knowing that their steadfast fanbase of dude-bros, gamers, die-hard Batfans, and barely-dressed Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy cosplayers will stand by them no matter how ridiculous the films they keep putting out may get...
But what they can't figure out is why their new targets--the Marvel fanbase, or those in-betweeners who are loyal to neither DC nor Marvel but just like comic movies in general, or the people who couldn't give less of a damn and don't follow the comics at all but just want a fun movie to watch on their night off--are so opposed to Suicide Squad. They just cannot understand where they went wrong with their new would-be box office smash.
Wails the DC exec, "I did everything right! They complained our movies weren't enough like Marvel, so we made it like a Marvel film! We took a host of quirky, lovable outlaws and stuffed that cast with star power. We had Margot Robbie and Cara Delevingne for the male fanservice, and Will Smith and Jared Leto for the ladies. We had a kick-ass soundtrack! We packed our script with hilarious one-liners! We had a dozen recognizable comic-book characters in one movie! We gave a hero from another movie a cameo! We put in a mid-credits scene! We even degraded our artistic vision of doom and darkness and gave them a happy ending! A happy ending, of all things! The love interest didn't even die! We did everything right! And they still complain that it wasn't good enough!"
And the Time-Warner exec downs his shot, unhappily pats his comrade on the back and mumbles, "I know, buddy. I know. They're just damn unreasonable."
I wanted, so very very badly, to love Suicide Squad. Marvel fangirl as I may be, I have always had a massive soft spot for all things Batman. Christopher Nolan and Tim Burton awakened my love for comic-book movies in the early years of my adolescence. The Joker is almost single-handedly responsible for my fascination with villains, which began to develop around the same time. I have not yet gotten up the balls to cosplay as Harley Quinn...I just don't think I'm anywhere near cute enough to pull that off...but maybe someday, who knows? I love all the Batman villains, but Joker and Harley have always topped the list. Yes, I am and always will be loyal to Marvel; their films and comics are just plain more my taste than most of what DC offers. (And if one more person questions why I love Captain America but can't stand Superman, I will slap them.) But I would never have even started watching superhero movies if my dad hadn't sat me down one day to watch Batman Begins.
So as you can imagine, I was thrilled when I heard about Suicide Squad. Less thrilled when I found out that they were using Batman V. Superman as a vehicle to set up Suicide Squad. And even less thrilled when I found out that this was their answer to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Because here's the thing: as a film, on its own, Suicide Squad could have been bloody fantastic. But that just wasn't going to happen once DC hauled off and started blatantly competing with Marvel.
To accurately describe Suicide Squad to all the Marvel fans who were too indignant to see it, let me paint you a picture: imagine if, instead of beginning the Marvel Cinematic Universe with 2008's Iron Man, they had instead begun with Civil War. Actually, I stand corrected. Let's assume that in the DC cinematic universe, Superman = Captain America (ugh!), Batman = Iron Man, Enchantress = Loki, and Amanda Waller = Fury. So, accurately, they would have started with Captain America: The First Avenger, and then released Civil War (Cap vs. Iron man, right?) and then came out with Guardians of the Galaxy, but thrown in Iron Man and Loki cameos just for kicks. Okay, we all on the same page now? Good.
So, in this universe, Cap and Iron Man have no history, they just haul off and start fighting because...they can? And then Cap dies because...well, because they couldn't afford to stuff him into the next movie, I guess? And Fury decides the Avengers just aren't dangerous enough, so he decides to assemble the Guardians of the Galaxy instead. And for some reason he makes Loki part of the team. But then Loki goes bad, as Loki tends to do, so the shit hits the fan. And in the midst of all this, you've got a bunch of very, very confused fans wondering why exactly we should care about any of this.
As the intro to this review suggests, DC tried very, very hard to channel Marvel for this one. But they don't seem to understand that Marvel didn't just suddenly decide one summer to throw out Civil War, Avengers, and Captain America just because their fanbase was looking a little thin. They tested the waters with Iron Man and Hulk. When that went well, they gave Iron Man a sequel, to see if the fans really meant it when they said they wanted more. They did. So, Marvel gifted us with Thor, and they also managed to sneak in a Hawkeye cameo, which was considered one of the major hints that bigger things were ahead. By the time Captain America rolled around, they'd gained more than enough momentum to give us sneak peeks of The Avengers, and when that one finally hit theaters, the deal was sealed. Suddenly, Marvel wasn't just for boys or for nerds anymore. Suddenly, Marvel was universal. And they have since then proved that they are not only capable of walking the line between cute, laugh-along, family-friendly fare (Guardians of the Galaxy and Ant-Man, for instance) and DC-esque grit (Daredevil and Jessica Jones come to mind).
But that takes time. Marvel didn't walk off the train and demand to sit with the popular kids. Marvel built up our trust first. Marvel took the time to establish that they did not only care about money and popularity, but quality and connection. Marvel didn't just want to make millions, they wanted to set a new standard--and they did. They became the Disney of comic book movies, and then Disney acquired them because even Walt Disney Company, the biggest media conglomerate to ever walk this earth, knew a damn good thing when they saw it.
So, back to Suicide Squad. Well, I have to say, DC, you pulled it off...almost. You tried, I'll give you that. Your sound was good. For once I could actually hear what the hell your characters were saying, even during the action sequences, so kudos for that. You managed to not sexualize every female character, though I would like to know why, precisely, Harley Quinn decided to go to battle in her underwear. (Because she's literally crazy? Ok, I'll let you have that one.) Your casting was fantastic. I had my doubts about Jared Leto, but my God did that man bring it. In fact, Batman aside, I can't think of one role that was miscast. And your soundtrack was killer. AC/DC? Panic! at the Disco? Eminem? Yes please! Bonus points for using all three kickass songs from the trailers. And in terms of characterization, especially for Harley Quinn, I must say you knocked it out of the park...for the most part, anyway...and you even managed to drag a non-showy performance out of Will Smith. (This makes two films of his that I've seen now that made me rethink my perception of him as an every-role-the-same celebrity actor...well played, DC. Well played.)
But the list of good points ends there. First of all, the story is ridiculous. The initial plot is a rip-off of Age of Ultron, substituting Batman villains for the Avengers. Amanda Weller wants to create a team of supervillains, "in case the next Superman is a terrorist" (sound familiar?) and control them via the Enchantress, a thousand-year-old infinitely powerful being who is currently trapped in the body of a doe-eyed archaeologist. Of course Enchantress escapes, because this plan has Bad Idea written all over it, and releases her brother, an equally old, equally powerful being with an equally big bone to pick with humanity. You see, they used to be worshipped as gods by the humans (huh...this sounds awfully familiar too) and now, big surprise, they aren't pleased to be recruited for dirty work instead, so they decide to destroy the world. (I think I've heard this before...) So from there, it turns into Guardians: Weller calls in her team of villains, including but not limited to a former assassin, a humanoid with limited vocabulary, a weapons-crazy loose cannon, and someone who's lost their spouse and seeking revenge, to save the world from a genocidal maniac. (Does that sound familiar? It should.) Can't possibly see how this can further go down the path of disaster, can we?
It's the kind of story that takes a lot of balls to pull off, this basic premise of Suicide Squad. Balls, and a lot of time. And really, really good writing. You see, this is why I compared it to Civil War and Guardians of the Galaxy, because that is exactly what I think they were trying to do. They wanted to build a team of lovable misfits, make a statement about how the government creates their own worst enemy, bring home the point that villains are the heroes of their own stories, sneak in a few Batman appearances, and hint at bigger things to come. But they didn't do it right. The plot holes alone are enough to take what could've been a great movie and immediately drag it down to average level. And don't get me started on the liberties they take with canon. If the Joker ever actually went after Harley Quinn to save her life just because he cared about her, it's news to me. Which is probably the thing that, truth be told, really fried my cheese because the whole point of the Joker-Harley relationship in the first place is that it's not romantic, it's abusive.
Speaking of which, what the hell was the Joker even doing in this movie? He's he's not part of the team, and he's not the main antagonist, or even really an antagonist at all. He, like Batman, needed to be left to teaser/cameo status. Ian and I were talking after the movie about how awesome it would've been if no one had even known the Joker was in the film, and at the end of the film he magically shows up to bust Harley out of her cell. That, we agreed, could have--and should have--been the mid-credits scene. But it wasn't, and the Joker came off in the film less like the Clown Prince of Crime and more like Jack Dawson from Titanic. Which is a massive disappointment, because as I said, Jared Leto knocked it out of the park. If Heath Ledger were here, he'd probably raise a glass to Leto's performance...and then bring that same glass down and smash it on the director's head for making the Joker into a romantic hero.
So overall, I see what they were trying to do with Suicide Squad, and maybe they could've pulled it off, but they rushed it. I don't think production was rushed--the technical elements were very good, and the editing and post-prod sound were probably the best I've ever seen in a DC film--but the pre-production stage must've taken all of about two days, because the story was just not there. And if you ask any screenwriter, aspiring, professional, or Oscar-winning, they will tell you the same thing: if the story isn't there, neither is the film. And that's a damn shame, especially in this case, because Suicide Squad could have been a slam-dunk...but instead, it's just another in the endless sea of summer popcorn movies.
No comments:
Post a Comment