The Suicide Squad | Bouquets & Brickbats

02/05/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’ve been decrying Marvel’s deplorable lack of ambition for so long that, when the studio finally comes up with something that’s genuinely different from what’s gone before, I feel mean when I say that it’s still not quite enough. But more of that later.

Thunderbolts* – and no, that isn’t a typing error, there really is an asterisk in the title, though I honestly haven’t the faintest idea why – is a superhero movie with a difference. The team of players we are presented with are all misfits in one way or another. I guess you could argue that DC’s Suicide Squad offers a similar premise, but it’s more cleverly handled here. Chief among our pound-shop players is Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), the sister of the now-deceased Black Widow. Once a larger-than-life adrenalin-junkie, Yelena spends all her time miserably doing the bidding of Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), a crooked politician with her eye on world-domination. (Hmm. I wonder where they got that idea?)

Yelena has lost touch with her father, Alexei (David Harbour), who now plies a trade as a chauffeur, and she longs for something that will make her feel like she’s actually doing some good. Sent out on yet another thankless mission – to destroy one of de Fontaine’s secret laboratories – Yelena discovers that two others have also been handed the same task. They are shape-shifter Ava Starr (Hannah John-Kaman), and John Walker (Wyatt Russell), a kind of below-parr Captain America knock-off. After a thankless skirmish, the three of them decide to join forces rather than continue to oppose each other and, before leaving, they rescue a seemingly ordinary guy called ‘Bob,’ (Lewis Pullman), who they find wandering about the place looking vaguely confused.

Once back in the real world, the ‘team’ quickly adds congressman Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan, last seen by B&B as the odious Donald T in The Apprentice) and, of course, Yelena’s dad, who has been itching for an excuse to ditch the new job and get back into his old Red Guardian outfit. It’s Alexei who comes up with the titular name for the assembly but it isn’t long before they are being pitched by the opportunistic de Fontaine as ‘The New Avengers.’

Thus far, Thunderbolts* feels rather ordinary: too many characters struggling for screen time and going through the same over-familiar tropes – but Bob, it turns out, is the film’s secret weapon in more ways than one, especially once he discovers his own hidden powers. He metamorphoses into a kind of alternate Superman, a dark, brooding figure whose actions are motivated by depression and paranoia and who is much more interested in destroying the world than saving it. He’s also not above rubbing out cute little children who get in his way – a move unthinkable in most superhero films.

While director Jake Schreier takes too long to reveal this trump card, once it’s out there, the proceedings pick up immediately and actually start to feel – dare I say it? – genuinely interesting, which is not a quality I’ve seen in a Marvel film for quite some time. And if nothing else, here’s proof that Florence Pugh is now a major box-office star, always capable of finding new depths in any persona she chooses to take on. Her Yelena is much more than a 2D comic brought to life.

For those who care about such things, there are two post-credit sequences. The first is brief and actually makes me laugh out loud. The second is more complex and offers a glimpse of upcoming Marvel release, The Fantastic Four, but you’ll need to stay in your seats until the bitter end if you want to catch it. It remains to be seen if that seemingly-doomed quartet can be rescued from the doldrums, but for now, Thunderbolts* is way better than expected.

3.6 stars

Philip Caveney

03/08/21

Cineworld

DC’s increasingly desperate attempts to rival the success of The Marvel Universe seem to be exemplified by this muddled and over-inflated offering from James Gunn. Not to be confused with David Ayers Suicide Squad, this is The Suicide Squad, but, much like its predecessor, it suffers from a bad case of #toomanysuperheroes. While it’s surely a more successful attempt to put those titular antiheroes onscreen, it still feels overlong, overcomplicated and, quite possibly, just over.

It starts well enough with the ruthless Amanda Waller (Viola Davis, playing it straight) recruiting convicted hitman Savant (Michael Rooker) for a dangerous mission. She offers him an opportunity to reduce his prison sentence if he manages to survive, but adds the pesky complication that, if he tries to bail, a device in his head will explode. We then meet the rest of the team, one of whom we know from the first film and the rest of whom seem expendable. The familiar face belongs to Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman) and it soon becomes clear that his team only exists to serve as a distraction, while the real squad, led by Bloodsport (Idris Elba), gets on with the actual mission. He’s joined by another character we’ve met before, Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), and by some very odd newbies, including Peacemaker (John Cena), Polka-Dot Man (David Dastmalchian), King Shark (a man with a shark’s head voiced by Sylvester Stallone) and Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior) who… well, suffice to say if you suffer from a fear of rodents, this film may not be for you.

There follow two hours and twelve minutes of fights, explosions, stunts and some explicitly bloody dismemberment, sailing very close to the wind considering the film’s 15 certificate. We’re treated to several shots of King Shark eating his opponents, which is probably meant to be comical, but is way too graphic for comfort. There’s also a sort of plot here, though it’s frankly bananas. The squad are sent to a South American country, where – in a ‘secret’ laboratory – scientists, under the supervision of Thinker (Peter Capaldi), are rearing a… giant starfish called Starro the Conqueror… yes, I know, at times it feels like a hyperactive six-year-old wrote the screenplay.

Like many of these big budget spectaculars, it’s a game of diminishing returns. There are too many punch ups, too many silly one-liners and too long a running time. Around the hour and a half mark, I’m starting to glance at my watch. Robbie’s Harley Quinn is by the far the best character, and she gets the film’s finest moment, an extended sequence where she escapes from prison to the tune of Just a Gigalo, the copious blood spatter replaced by flurries of animated flowers. It’s delightful and, if the rest of it were up to this standard, this would be a more positive review.

As it stands, it’s hard to be enthusiastic. A post-credits sequence which appears to offer a spin-off featuring one of the story’s less likeable characters is hardly an alluring prospect. Maybe I’ll give that one a miss.

3.4 stars

Philip Caveney