Words by Bailey Agbai
Let’s be honest: the return to the cinema hasn’t been great – but with The Suicide Squad, DC have created a summer adventure we can all enjoy.
Suicide is hardly an entertaining notion, but The Suicide Squad manages to exonerate the word of its usual despair. Following on from 2016’s less than favourable Suicide Squad, the new outing from DC’s roster of antiheroes feels likes a soft reboot in some ways. Firstly, the title is so awkwardly similar to the first film that you can’t help but wonder if it’s an attempt to ignore the existence of the 2016 instalment entirely. Secondly, the violence of the sequel makes the original’s feel very PG. Thirdly, The Suicide Squad is just naturally better than the original in every single way.
The major problem that has often burdened DC and resulted in subpar movies is the company’s difficulty in establishing a consistent tone. As a result of the critical and commercial success enjoyed by Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, the DCEU (DC Extended Universe) initially made a concerted effort to mimic the dark realism of Nolan’s Batman trilogy. The execution, however, was always off. Films like Man of Steel and Batman vs. Superman, although enjoyable, had severe tonal issues, whilst films like Shazam! and Aquaman felt very tonally inspired by Marvel’s often comedic formula. The Suicide Squad looks to find the perfect balance.
Directed by James Gunn, director of Guardians of the Galaxy, one may fear that his treatment of The Suicide Squad would indulge in the PG Disney violence often found in Marvel films. Instead, the violence of The Suicide Squad is a far cry from Gunn’s Marvel efforts. The film feels honest in the way that it doesn’t try to be something it’s not: it’s aware that the concept of a squad of mentally unhinged supervillains saving the world is ridiculous, and admits it. The Suicide Squad achieves this authenticity through its use of obscure and camp characters like Polka-Dot Man and Ratcatcher. These characters aren’t as powerful or stoic as Batman or Wonder Woman, but they feel human.
What makes a character human? Some would say weakness, and The Suicide Squad specifically argues physical weakness through its slew of increasingly gruesome character deaths. One of the many areas that the first Suicide Squad film failed was in its lack of death: how suicidal is the mission if only a few of the characters die? The Suicide Squad fixes this, providing a steady flow of death and destruction from start to finish. It’s not a film for the easily nauseous, as the extreme detail as to which it portrays violent murder is very graphic for a comic book movie. The magic of this, however, is that it makes the film unpredictable. Comic book films are usually predictable in the sense that you know there’s no way certain characters will die, but The Suicide Squad refuses to play favourites and consistently surprises you.
A very specific triumph of The Suicide Squad is that it gives Viola Davis the justice she deserves. In the first film, Davis, as one of the most celebrated actors alive, felt very out of place in her role as Amanda Waller in a film very undeserving of her talent and time. Beyond Davis, the other standout performances come from Daniela Melchoir as Ratcatcher, who feels like the most complex character, and Margot Robbie who of course gives another infallible performance as Harley Quinn.
There’s not anything to criticise with The Suicide Squad because everything it sets out to accomplish it does with skill. It may be a 2-hour spectacle of mindless violence, but it doesn’t feel generic. There’s a beauty to be found in the violence because Gunn’s execution of it always has a purpose: the violence both entertains and pushes the story forward. The pure and bloody enjoyment delivered by The Suicide Squad makes the prospect of another sequel a welcome one.