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. 

I saw Brightburn (the Sadistic Superboy)...

A crossing of genres can be tricky. When it comes to speculative fiction, there's some reasonable room for overlap. M. Night Shyamalan proved this, and now producer James "Guardians of the Galaxy" Gunn has accepted the challenge, joined by co-producer Kenneth Huang and "Hive'"s deft director, David Yarovesky, for the creepy, supervillain knockoff, "Brightburn". 

"Brightburn" is also a collaboration with Gunn's brothers Brian and Mark, who wrote the underrated "Journey 2: the Mysterious Island". In this case, the siblings' script turns the Man of Steel mythos upside down: A boy (Jackson A. Dunn) crashes in Kansas via a spacecraft and is taken in by sympathetic parents, Tori and Kyle Breyer (Elizabeth Banks and David Denman). The couple name the orphan Brandon (in a nod to Routh, perhaps?), treat him like a prince, but things twist when the lad starts exhibiting peculiar powers, like chewing silverware, crushing a little girl's hand and then there's those eyes, bright and burning. 

Despite his unique nature, young Breyer initially assimilates, before getting bullied (well, it's more like come-and-go teasing) and from there decides to toss caution to the wind: murdering anyone who stands in this way and if world conquest should await, so be it.

The boy's guardians panic over the evil they've harbored, even though their intent was nothing but selfless and good. Thanks to Yarovesky's taunt direction, these guilt-ridden folks become the film's most empathetic element. We experience the mad ordeal through their eyes...feel their pain. Like them, we only wish we could turn away, but of course, with a tale this morbid, our curiosity keeps us glued. 

Brightburn, the boy's implied alias (culled from his initials and evident traits), is a harbinger invader in a "War of the Worlds" retelling or better yet, a reintroduction to "Twilight Zone'"s Anthony Fremont: a new-age conjurer of weird and frightful stuff who slips on a cape to wreck havoc. One could also consider this fable a variant of "The Omen", wherein an ersatz Damien Thorn opts for a fast, flashy rise. (Why seek the Presidency when one can all the quicker portray General Zod?)  No matter how one spins it, there's no super antithesis to thwart the hateful youth, so the best anyone can do is evade his wrath, but considering his vast powers, how is that possible?

This makes "Brightburn" not so much an ironic, comic-book derivative, but an all-out horror flick. It also makes Breyer unworthy of sympathy. I don't care what the know-it-all sociologists and shrinks say: If one is persecuted and yet feels compelled to persecute others, one is as bad as those who initiated the vile process--no, worse. Breyer isn't Carrie White, whose rage runs rampant on a particular, blood-splattered night. He isn't the spurned Frankenstein Monster, murdering in confusion and lamenting it later. He isn't Magneto or Bane, out to purge some ill-perceived plague for the betterment of all. This kid is driven to kill for the sheer, sadistic sake of it. 

"Brightburn" is also an apocalyptic analysis of society's worst traits, disguised as something alien. The message behind the symbolism is as obvious as Hell (pun intended), and all the more disturbing because of it.

Considering the recent accusations aimed at James Gunn (monstrous, unforgivable stuff if it's for real), one must wonder if "Brightburn" might not be the filmmaker's confessional vessel, where child contempt is the allegorical novelty. (I sure hope not.)  Maybe "Brightburn" is a swipe at the DC competition or action-figure icons in general. You got me, but there's no denying that it captures life's darkest, cruelest fantasies, flaunting them for all they're worth. 

Brightburn is Satan incarnate, in addition to our collective, all-mighty Hyde unleashed. We raised and/or turned a blind eye to this little bastard during the "decline of truth and justice in the modern world", making him what he is. Now we must choke on the smoldering remnants of his reign. 

I saw Guardians, Vol. 2...

In August '14, the film version of Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning's "Guardians of the Galaxy" took the Marvel/space-opera scene by storm: a mega hit that exceeded expectations with its retro zeal in both action and pop-cultural sounds. It was the story's varied underdogs, however, who made the film great, with its ensemble becoming the most embraced since "A New Hope". 

On this basis, it was only a matter of time before our lovable gang reappeared and yep, they're even hipper and quirkier for "Vol 2": Peter Quill/Star-Lord (Chris Pratt); Drax (Dave Bautista); Gamora (Zoe Salanda); (Baby) Groot (Vin Diesel); Rocket Racoon (Bradley Cooper); and Yondu (Michael Rooker), who once acted as Quill's troublesome, surrogate father. Oh, and let's not forget Gamora's resentful sis, Nebula (Karen Gillan); in addition to exotic empath, Mantis (Pom Klementieff); conscientious Kraglin (Sean Gunn); conniving, golden gal Ayesha Kismet (Elizabeth Debicki); and Star-Lord's maybe-he-is-maybe-he-ain't dad, a chap called Ego (Kurt Russell). Heck, even Yondu's has own lofty father figure, the Ravager leader otherwise known as Starhawk...Stakar Ogord (Sylvestor Stallone). Now how's that for a shape of things to come!?! (The addition of Russell and Stallone also make this a "Tango and Cash" reunion of sorts, even though the two never cross paths during the film. Pity...)

We now find our heroes combating a tentacled entity called the Abilisk, to assist a race called the Sovereign, but this interlude and the various circumstances and thugs that surround and/or stem from it (like Chris Sullivan's vile Taserface), don't drive the plot as much as Ego's weird intent. In fact, the father/son reunion soon becomes a tense focal point, giving the story that shaky Skywalker feel. Ego's ultimate motives, therefore, pave the path of this wild adventure, as does the biological baggage he carries, which can evidently alter the universe as we know it. This makes things real sticky for sonny-boy, but of course, Star-Lord can see through pretentious guises, no matter how paternal. 

The adventure flies fast with its top-of-the-charts accompaniment, and thankfully, the ride never loses track of our various friends and foes: i.e., character development somehow prevails within the special-effects onslaught. The strength of character, therefore, might make this franchise the closest of all to its Marvel roots, with "Vol 2" clinching the deal. It also succeeds in keeping its characters (i.e., their motives) more in touch with those important, founding fathers who "Star Wars" has, alas, dismissed over the decades: John Carter, Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon. Hell, why not throw in Rocky Jones and Tom Corbett while we're at it? "Vol 2" is as damn nostalgically zestful as it gets. 

James Gunn's writing/directing finesse is ideal for the character-laden mythology, though I hesitate to give him too much credit, based on his asinine Captain-America-as-a-Nazi acceptance. Unforgivable! And yeah, I sure as hell still hold a grudge over that. Nonetheless, for the sake of this particular, cosmic incarnation, I've no choice but to give credit where it's due. It's really that good. 

As another plus, Star-Lord's persistent pursuit of Gamora is consistently bumpy and never full-fledged lovey-dovey. When it comes to this type of picture, that's the wisest way to play it. Keep the romance unfulfilled. That kills the yawns and ensures we'll want to see the relationship develop, and if it doesn't, no big deal.

"Vol 2" sure ain't Shakespeare. It ain't no "Winter Soldier", either; or for that matter, "Dune"; "Lord of the Rings"; "Planet of the Apes"; "Star Trek" or any number of other more complex, speculative journeys that we keep reassessing to expand our intellects. That doesn't make "Vol 2" any less important or productive for what it offers. I wanna see another chapter real soon, and if the early, box-office tallies are any indication, a third flick is but an intergalactic hop and a skip away. Hooray!!!

I saw the Guardians of the Galaxy...

"Guardians of the Galaxy" is the latest Marvel movie adaptation to emerge this summer. It's based a Dan Abnett/Andy Lanning creation, about a group of gallant misfits, who against seemingly insurmountable odds, surprisingly rise to the occasion.

In James "Dawn of the Dead '04" Gunn's film version, the group starts off less than stellar, with its hero stealing an alluring orb, only to learn the item possesses planet-destroying properties. To prevent the orb from getting into the hands of an intergalactic madman, they must try to put personal concerns aside (a difficult task, considering how passionate they are about them) and go on the run.

Gunn and Nicole Pearlman's script ushers in plenty of action, yet brews constant interaction among its leads, making the story both compelling and humorous.

Among the Guardians are Peter Quill (Chris Pratt), ersatz Star-Lord, a sentimental gent of alien descent; Drax (Dave Bautista), a warrior seeking revenge for his family's murder; Gamora (Zoe Saldana), an attractive, green assassin; Groot (Vin Diesel), a lanky "Lord of the Rings" Ent-ish entity; and Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper), a mutant critter with human attributes. 

Along for the ride are Yondu (Michael Rooker), a blue rogue who acts as Quill's questionable father figure; Taneleer Tivan, the Collector (Benicio del Toro), an curator of unusual commodities, some even living; Rhomann Dey (John C. Reilly), a gracious soldier; Korath (Djimon Hounsou), a tenacious tracker; Nebula (Karen Gillan), a surrogate sister to Gamora, with a pretentious allegiance to Marvel legend, Thanos (Josh Brolin); and of course, the main villain, Ronan, the Accuser (Lee Pace), a frightening Sakaaran leader who agrees to seize the orb in exchange for Thanos' pledge to destroy those he perceives as enemies. 

This collective spree doesn't pretend to be perfect, nor does its members wish to be. However, for all their flaws, they are shrewd enough to draw the line and pick sides. Distinguishing the Guardians from the others is their willingness to go the extra mile to do good, which firmly defines who they are and who we, the audience, can applaud. Their different backgrounds also give the film a "Star Wars"/"Star Trek" feel, demonstrating how those of varied origins can conscientiously coexist. 

Quill is, of course, the yarn's stand-out hero, and a bumbling one at that, but admirable for his ability to lead. In some respects, he comes across as a carefree Han Solo: initially a tad self-centered, but soon seeing the necessity of putting others before himself.

Salanda, previously computerized for "Avatar", presents a similar demeanor. Sporting enticing, old-school make-up, she resembles, for all intents and purposes, a "Star Trek" Orion slave girl, though more inclined to fulfill her mission than indulge in lusty trysts. 

She doesn't immediately warm up to Quill, but eventually recognizes his sincerity: a most important plot turn, for often in these sorts of makeshift groupings, friction can prevail between/among characters to the point of irritation. In Gamora and Quill's case, any burgeoning disrespect is quickly squashed, granting the audience a chance not only to get to know them, but actually to like them.

Cooper's Rocket Raccoon, on the other hand, is the film's crassest and cleverest novelty: an equivalent to the sidekicks of past imagi-movies, like the "Star Wars" droids or "Clash of the Titan'"s Bubo the Owl. However, despite his CGI'd confinement, he emerges far more humanized than cartoonish, and if not for his scrawny form, might be seen as recklessly cavalier and heroic and Quill. Similarly, his interaction with Diesel's protective Groot (who expresses impressive variance through a mere looping salutation) contrasts well with the mutant's cantankerous attitude, thus creating a realistic, affably empathetic banter found in most long-time friendships.

Arguably, Bautista's Drax is as equally endearing: at one moment maddeningly incensed and the next warmly naive, particularly in his misinterpretation of metaphors.

Of those on the "dark side", Pace's Ronan is appropriately intimidating: in many respects, the film equivalent to Darth Maul/Vader, but with greater, misguided zeal. Additionally, Del Toro's Collector enhances the film's sinister angle with weird, serpentine gestures and scrutinizing stares. (Too bad his part wasn't made bigger.) 

By the time "Guardians" concludes, one will have easily embraced its breezy ambiance and quirky characters as one might that of L. Frank Baum. Heck, the movie even shamelessly amps up the fun with  '70s/'80s tunes (courtesy of Quill's deceased mother), but then its overall feel is unquestionably a throwback to productions from that time frame:.Glen Larson's "Battlestar Galactica" and "Buck Rogers in the 25th Century" immediately come to mind, plus "Heavy Metal--the Movie". 

Whether "Guardians" spawns its own franchise or connects with its colorful, cinematic counterparts is yet to be seen, but as it stands, the film has great potential to make a lasting impression on the pop-cultural scene. It's now merely up to the filmmakers and of course, the ticket-buying public to ensure its longevity.