The Suicide Squad ('21) is a sequel/reboot to David Ayers' '16 hit, featuring all new baddies-forced-to-do-good, with Jai Courtney's Captain Boomerang and Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn returning for the embattled gusto. Writer/director James (Guardians of the Galaxy) Gunn now helms the brash, DC/WB/Atlas concept.
For this new misadventure, the motley crew (coined Task Force X) is jettisoned onto steamy Corto Maltese, under the command of Joel Kinneman's Colonel Rick Flag and Viola Davis' Amanda Waller (each from different, strategic vantages) to eradicate the dictatorial Luna regime and the island's colossal extraterrestrial inhabitant, Starro the Conqueror. (The intent here is to squash the Warning from Space thingamajig before it infects the world through mind manipulation and/or unleashes unsavory, Project Starfish secrets.)
Comprising the longer-haul Squad (since there's an ill-fated, prelude team led by Michael Rooker's icy Savant), we're awarded Idris Elba's Bloodsport; John Cena's Peacemaker (the label is sardonic); Peter Capaldi's the Thinker; David Dastmalchian's Polka Dot Man; Daniela Melchior's Ratcatcher Jr; and King Shark, motioned by Steve Agee and voiced by Sylvester Stallone. (To strengthen the cause, Alice Braga appears as spunky freedom fighter, Sol Soria.) The Squad's semblances and personalities are diverse, thus enhancing their expendable uniqueness, while adhering to DC's titular, comic-book tradition.
Robbie, of course, steals the show whenever she's given the chance. (Alas, she does fall out of the plot for a lonesome spell; oh, well.) At this point, it would be impossible to replace her as Quinn. It's also Robbie's time to shine as the big screen's compulsive sex symbol/actress extraordinaire. She can play anything really, and her attractive nimbleness bleeds through her many roles: Clownish Quinn being no exception.
As with the first Squad, the members are likable, even if unorthodox in their (anti)heroic relegation. Indeed, they're all flawed to some dangerous degree or other, but handled in such a way that one might say, "There but for the grace of God, go I."
Incidentally, this entry's tone is more rambunctious (i.e. amusingly splattered and thickly tune-tooled) than the first, which fits Gunn's style. This grants Squad '21 a Dirty Dozen/Kelly's Heroes meets Guardians/Ragnarok aura, in contrast to Ayer's chapter, which leans more on irreverent, monster-movie mysticism and Joker-fueled fright.
Squad '21 is far from profound or earthshaking, but so what. (Who desires pretentious fodder, anyway?) Enjoy this visceral jaunt for what it is, and with that, satisfaction saves the screwed-up day.
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