Suicide Squad

I remember sitting in a packed theater in August 2016, clutching a bucket of popcorn and wearing a slightly itchy DC Comics t-shirt, fully prepared for David Ayer to change the superhero landscape forever. The marketing had been a masterclass in hype—neon-soaked posters, that incredible "Bohemian Rhapsody" trailer, and the promise of a "Dirty Dozen" style romp through the mud of the DC Extended Universe. I watched this at a midnight screening where the person behind me kept kicking my seat rhythmically to "Heathens" by Twenty One Pilots, and honestly, that rhythmic thumping was a fitting metronome for the experience I was about to have.

A Trailer House’s Fever Dream

There is no way to talk about Suicide Squad without talking about the "war" in the editing room. After the grim, heavy reception of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice earlier that year, Warner Bros. panicked. They saw the lighthearted success of Deadpool and decided this gritty black-ops movie needed to be "fun." They reportedly hired Trailer Park—the actual company that cut the teaser—to provide their own version of the film.

The result is a movie that looks like it was edited by a blender. The first twenty minutes are essentially a series of flashy music videos introducing the characters with neon title cards and "on-the-nose" needle drops. It’s a jarring experience. One moment we’re watching Viola Davis (as the chillingly pragmatic Amanda Waller) eat a steak while discussing national security, and the next, we’re being blasted with "Sympathy for the Devil" while Will Smith’s Deadshot hits a target. The pacing is breathless, not because it’s exciting, but because it feels like the film is terrified you’ll get bored if a song isn't playing every thirty seconds.

The Harley Quinn Show (and some other guys)

Despite the editorial chaos, the casting is where Suicide Squad actually finds some solid ground. Margot Robbie didn't just play Harley Quinn; she claimed the character for an entire generation. Looking back now, after she’s refined the role in Birds of Prey and James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad, her work here is still magnetic. She brings a tragic, manic energy that survives the script's weaker moments.

Then there’s Will Smith. This was a big "comeback" moment for him in the blockbuster space, and he brings that classic movie-star charisma to Floyd Lawton. He’s essentially playing "Will Smith with a gun," but it works. His chemistry with Joel Kinnaman’s Rick Flag—the frustrated "straight man" of the group—provides the movie’s only real emotional backbone. On the flip side, poor Jai Courtney finally found a role that fits him as Captain Boomerang, but he’s mostly relegated to holding a pink unicorn and looking confused in the background.

The "Damaged" Legacy of Method Acting

We have to talk about the clown in the room. Jared Leto’s Joker was the subject of endless pre-release trivia that felt like an urban legend. Apparently, Leto took "method acting" to a bizarre extreme, sending used condoms, live rats, and bullets to his castmates. Margot Robbie reportedly received a live black rat (which she kept as a pet!), while Viola Davis mentioned a henchman dropping a dead pig on a table during rehearsals.

All that preparation resulted in... about ten minutes of screen time. The Joker looks like he's about to ask me for a cigarette outside a Florida nightclub, and his performance is a collection of strange growls and purrs that never quite coalesce into a threat. In the contemporary context of 2016, this felt "edgy," but today, it feels like a relic of a very specific, misguided aesthetic.

Interestingly, the "SKWAD" bond was real. The cast actually tattooed each other on set with a "SKWAD" logo using a tattoo gun Margot Robbie bought. Cara Delevingne, who plays the literal-head-shaking Enchantress, and Joel Kinnaman both took the plunge. It’s a shame that off-camera camaraderie didn't always translate to the screen, where the team’s "family" bond feels unearned and rushed.

Action in the Dark

As an action film, Suicide Squad struggles with clarity. David Ayer (who wrote the fantastic Training Day) usually excels at gritty, street-level tension, but he gets lost in the "big blue beam in the sky" trope that plagued 2010s blockbusters. The squad spends most of the second act fighting "Eyes of the Adversary"—nameless, faceless blobs of black goo that allow the actors to hit things without the movie needing an R-rating.

The stunt work is actually quite impressive when you can see it. Will Smith spent over 22 hours training with Navy SEALs and Army Rangers to handle the weapons convincingly, and it shows in his posture. However, the final battle against a CGI-heavy Enchantress (who is basically doing a very intense Pilates routine in front of a portal) lacks the weight and physical impact of Ayer’s previous work like Fury.

Suicide Squad is a fascinating cultural artifact from the height of the "franchise wars." It’s a movie caught between two identities: a dark, nihilistic war movie and a neon-colored pop-rock music video. While it's easy to poke fun at the "Damaged" forehead tattoos and the choppy editing, there is a weird, messy heart at the center of it. It’s a film that failed to be a masterpiece but succeeded in becoming a permanent part of the pop-culture conversation, for better or worse.

Ultimately, it’s worth a watch for Margot Robbie’s star-making turn and Viola Davis being the most intimidating person in a room full of monsters. Just don't expect the coherent masterpiece the trailers promised. It’s a loud, colorful, slightly confusing night out that leaves you with a bit of a headache and a few catchy songs stuck in your head.