HARLEY QUINN #5 ENDS; KITE MAN ASCENDS

Harley Quinn: Season 5 has ended. It delivered as I had hoped with Lois Lane rubbing elbows with the titular Harley and Ivy (though not as much as I'd have liked), with the show tickling my fancy more through Bane and Clayface, per their comical, highbrow ventures. Oh, and Frank's birthing "metamorphosis" was a nice, marginal surprise and as such, acceptable. (I wasn't as keen on Bruce Wayne's disintegration in the wake of Lena Luthor's rejection, even if he did make a virile comeback. I don't enjoy seeing my childhood hero reduced to a blubbering fool, though I realize the situation is implanted more for irony than beloved convention. I'd have also liked Catwoman in the long-term mayhem, but hey, I guess one can't have everything, with an overload of characters already involved as it is.) 

The big surprise was Brainiac. I knew he'd make his presence known, but presumed he'd be an interloper at best and most, teasing his desire to shrink Metropolis throughout. To say the least, when he became the episodes' main thrust, I was thrown, but by no means in a bad way. 

The retelling of Brainiac's story was quirky, which is no surprise within Quinn's whacky, alternate plane, but beyond the guffaws that swirled, the classic antagonist projected depth. In other words, he was more confused and sorrowful in his villainy than hateful. At times, he was as identifiable as any decent human, caring for his android family and their "simian" pet, Koko, who he even kept alive in his mind well after the poor creature's death. 

With this said, I realize that Harley Quinn: Season 6 has gotten the green light, but I wouldn't mind a Brainiac spinoff, maybe a cerebral prequel to what this Harley season revealed, emphasizing Brainiac's old, domestic life, in what could then evolve into something akin to The Jetsons. 

And speaking of spinoffs, I finally binged Kite Man: Hell Yeah! I know I should've absorbed it sooner, but as I've said in prior posts, it's tricky for me to catch everything that's out there due to my stacked schedule, and this one kept slipping through the cracks, nudging me every so often, only to get sidestepped yet again.

Nevertheless, I like Kite Man as much as Harley. That Chuck Brown is an underdog villain, and on an underscoring level, more virtuous than not, is easy to digest.  

Hell Yeah! even gave me another substantial heaping of Bane, and the big bruiser sure did shine within that Cheers-geared (Noonan's) backdrop, and even further through that totally rad, back-to-the-'80s, Portal Potty sojourn, not to mention his nostalgic, action-packed return to the League of Shadows Pit, his catchy, rap number at the ill-fated, Sexiest Villain Alive show, his sneaky, Hamlet-like stab at writing a Brainiac musical/play, and last but not least, his fatherly nurturing of the cute yet dissatisfied Goldilocks. Much of this exaggerated stuff doesn't match the traditional Bane by a mile, but that's why the setup is so humorous (and not anywhere near as condescending as it proved with bumbling Wayne). Anyway, I got a kick out of the results.

Now, getting back to Kite Man, who do like and (as far as bad guys go) respect (even when for an edgy episode, he became the overbearing Beast Mode to press a valuable, life lesson), I'm even more impressed with Golden Glider. When she engaged in that nude-fight, sauna scene, I couldn't help but be enthralled. I'm a huge, Kekko (Keiko) Kamen fan, so that sequence left me bewitched, excited and begging for more. (On the more sensitive side, Golden Glider's mother/daughter "reconciliation" was as complex as it was austere, thanks in no small part to Malice Vundabar's smug interference; the rift was also a disconcerting contrast to the series' stapling slapstick.) 

I probably shouldn't dig these dissentient, animated offshoots as much as I do (for one, I still struggle with Lego Batman and its endless tributaries); but these particular, DC/WB shows do tend to lure me, and once I'm involved, I stay settled. They're nowhere near as gross as The Boys and work well for hitting the fleeting spot when I'm having breakfast or supper. On this basis, they rekindle the comfort I tapped from cartoons I watched in the early mornings and late afternoons of my youth (before or after school, that is), only with sailor-blushing vulgarity sewn in. For me, that's progression. 

I saw Harley Quinn: Season 4

Instead of speculating on Max's (ten-episode) Harley Quinn: Season 4 when it was poised to premiere, I decided to wait till it closed to share my views. 

 

I'll say this, it's as facetious as ever, though I do believe the Quinn/Poison Ivy (Kaley Cuoco/Lake Bell) relationship has outspent its novelty. (Ivy's many hard-up, corporate meetings, not to mention a major, Time Sphere, dystopic, Robin-ruled "mishap," with charitable, Nora Freeze/Captain Cold/Mama Macaroni/Bane [Rache Datch/Ben Levin/Janeane Garofalo/James Adomian] spillage, rocked the bond to instability or make that, near unlikeability.) It's time for a vengeful split and all the heated hijinks that come with it, especially if Dr. Psycho (Tony Hale) returns full time, abetting one gal or the other, or better yet, pulling the cerebral strings of both. (Hey, I can dream, can't I?) 

The season played best when it dished Quinn's pledge for good. Her caped-crusader stint made her a surrogate Jack Skellington. She meant well, but still screwed up. She's sure no Mary Sue (thank goodness); but then, when she bashed in Professor Pyg (Tom Hollander)'s skull, her Clockwork Orange excessiveness was a trifle hard to digest (as much as it was in previous seasons when she slayed Penguin and Mad Hatter; is nothing sacred?).  

On the additional downside, there were moments when Season 4 got, well, just plain nauseating. I'm referring, in particular, to King Shark (Ron Funches)' obnoxious hammerheaded wife, Tabitha (Mary Holland). That whole pregnancy process was shiver-my-timbers slimy (I mean, yuck!), though tame compared to Tabitha's biting, verbal abuse. I don't like King Shark being belittled that way, even if it's just in a DC, alternate-reality cartoon, where the events needn't be taken as ubiquitous gospel. (Nevertheless, I was grateful for tipsy Security Guard Jim Gordon [Christopher Meloni] giving our mortified majesty some sound, parental advice.) 

On another comparative perch, I believe The Bat Family (Harvey Guillen/Jacob Tremblay/Briana Cuoco) satisfied up to a point, with Nightwing being the stand-out, except (WTF!?) he gets killed: a cruel ruse, like Batman's death in Titans, or so I assumed. I mean, Batgirl's fleeting "demise" wasn't quite what it seemed in Episode 9. Uh, Oracle, anyone? 

At least Talia al Ghul (Mary Elasmar) stayed on sexy cue (in her inimitable, snooty way), as Clayface (Alan Tudyk) reigned as Vegas' impersonator supreme (Frank Gorshin move over!); but Bruce and Alfred (Hollander and Diedrich Bader) tossed behind bars struck too close for comfort (in light of what's now in real-life motion). The same can be said of socialist Joker (Tudyk)'s mayoral criminality (he seeks a return to villainy, when in truth, he's been villainous all along) and Lex Luthor (Giancarlo Guiseppe Alessandro Espisito)'s Legion of Doom, PR/climate-change claptrap (and the prissy gents who ensure the spread of evil as separate bastards or when joined as a colossal whole). None of it should be tolerated (unless comeuppance is delivered, and it's not until maybe, like, the end sorta, for which I'm kinda grateful). And yet to rub salt on the ever widening wound, the linking setup mimics what the mainstream presents and promotes each and every lifelong day. I don't mind allegory and allusion (in fact, I'm apt to welcome such with open arms), but gee whiz, this stuff friggin stung and then some!

In the end, I found Season 4 a mixed bag. Its "toxic" jest often tickled my funny bone, but also tended to make me sigh. Whenever that happened, I considered hitting pause and escaping into a Three Stooges short, where the violence is funny, but the current-affair rhetoric sparse. Oh, well, it is what it is. If Harley Quinn: Season 5 surfaces (and it should, if only to inflate Nightwing's resurrection-from-The Lazarus Pit revenge ... okay, I gave it away), you can rest assured, I'll be watching. 

Welcome Back, Harley Quinn: Season 3 Blossoms

DC/WB's Harley Quinn animated series returns (July 28 on HBO Max), with much manic promise in store for Season 3, with Kaley Cuoco resupplying her apt vocals for the titular and wacky anti-heroine. 

Season 2 ended with a love bond between the irreverent clown and Lake Bell's practical Poison Ivy, leaving poor ol' Kite Man bummed and dejected. Fans now wonder if the relationship(s) will go down the path of salacious sexiness or boring political correctness? (Let's hope the former rules.)

Doctor Psycho really stole the show in previous outings, in the first season acting as a crass, misunderstood underdog, scorned even by the Legion of Doom, but in his second fling, his ascent held such evil gusto to rival even that of Lex Luthor and the Joker combined: no small, devious feat to say the least. 

But where is the damn doc this time? Why no publicity stills? Has the small, great one been put out to pastor? Say it ain't so.

It does appear that Clayface, King Shark, Frank the Plant and (albeit more or less cameoed) Sy Borgman are back, along with (whoa!) Batman, Batgirl, Catwoman, Robin, Nightwing, the Riddler, Clock King, Mad Hatter, Bane, Golden Glider, Plastique, Amanda Waller, James Gordon, Two-Face, Superman, Ocean Master, Swamp Thing, Nora Freeze, John Constantine, James Gunn, Billy Bob Thornton and (oh! by jingo) RoboCop's ED-209 (or so the teaser and related rumors flaunt), in addition to some (just for the f***in' fun of it) Court of the Owls hijinks. If that's what's in store, how bland can things possibly go and/or be?

Also, the first two seasons weren't ashamed to pile on the shamelessness, in language and more-than-suggestive situations. Kids today are too timid to consume anything like this Quinn cartoon, but adults (at least those of an against-the-cancel-culture grain) can enjoy every smidgeon of the over-the-top shenanigans.

That Season 3 exists is a good thing. Perhaps the show's trailblazing continuation will cement a Season 4. I'm not a betting man, but in this instance, I'd bet on it and be happy to slap down more than a stolen dollar to see it through. 

I saw Suicide Squad '21...

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.