Margot Robbie

Suicide Squad

It’s become trendy on social media, and on Twitter especially, to refer to any and everything as “trash” if you dislike it. When word spread online that Suicide Squad was “trash,” I was disappointed that the highly anticipated DC Comics film hadn’t lived up to expectations – but I needed to see for myself. And I’m glad that I didn’t heed the naysayers. Although the movie was not without its flaws, it was far from the disaster everyone described.

The movie is built on an intriguing premise: What if Superman were bad? Who would stop him? This essential question is what drives Amanda Waller (Viola Davis, Lila & Eve), a high-level national security advisor who ascribes to the old adage that you fight fire with fire. She assembles a team of badass miscreants to keep on standby for any kamikaze mission, should the need arise. If things go south, this band of ragtag criminals and “meta-humans” will be easy to disavow. The Suicide Squad is comprised of Deadshot (Will Smith, Concussion), Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie, The Legend of Tarzan), Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Concussion), Boomerang (Jai Courtney, Insurgent), Diablo (Jay Hernandez, Bad Moms), and Slipknot (Adam Beach, Diablo).

Dr. Harley Quinn was a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, where she treated The Joker (Jared Leto, Dallas Buyers Club). She fell in love with the charming psychopath, and the pair unleashed a reign of terror across Gotham until Batman (Ben Affleck, Batman v. Superman) nabbed her, splitting the demented couple apart. Batman also reeled in Deadshot, an assassin whose pinpoint accuracy netted top dollar amongst underworld figures. Harley, Deadshot, Croc and Diablo share a prison, while Boomerang and Slipshot are apprehended later, rounding out the Squad.

Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnamon, Run All Night) is Amanda Waller’s second in command, tasked with corralling the Squad as they did her bidding. He is in love with Dr. June Moon, an archaeologist whose body and spirit have become inhabited by a witch dubbed Enchantress (Cara Delevingne, Pan). Moon’s altar ego unleashes a sinister force, spurring Waller to call the Suicide Squad into action. I’ll end the plot summation here, as the storyline is perhaps the weakest aspect of the movie. The details of the Squad’s mission were muddled, and writer/director David Ayer (Fury) seemed to take an ad hoc approach to the storyline’s structure. The movie’s strength lies in the chemistry of its titular ensemble cast, namely Harley Quinn and Deadshot.

Robbie and Smith have undeniable chemistry, evidenced by their previous work in last year’s Focus, and again here. Robbie clearly relished the role, embodying the beautifully batty Harley with an endearing air of likability. I watched the Batman cartoon as a kid, and I remember Harley as an adoring nuisance to the Joker, a smitten pest. Here, she was every bit his equal and true love interest. Regarding Joker, there will be inevitable comparisons to Heath Ledger’s portrayal, but I encourage you to let each interpretation stand on its own. Leto did a fine job with the role, putting his own spin on it while maintaining the evil eccentricity we’ve come to expect.

The entire cast was excellent, but Smith and Robbie were the standouts. To put it simply, Deadshot is a bad ass MF. Smith is charismatic enough to carry his own Deadshot movie, and I hope DC is at least considering the notion. Viola Davis couldn’t turn in a bad performance if she tried, and she shone brightly in what could have been an average role. She was formidable in her own right, which was befitting of a character charged with keeping such a group in line. Was this the best comic book movie ever? No. In fact, I can understand why someone wouldn’t love it. But the disdain is totally overblown. Bolstered by the chemistry of its cast and the sheer amount of fun they seemed to be having at every moment, Suicide Squad made for a good time at the movies. Grade: B

Focus

Will Smith (After Earth) is becoming uniquely polarizing. In the beginning of his career, I would’ve wagered that almost everyone loved his affable personality and charming one-liners. Now, it’s hit or miss. Some think he tends to overact or rely on a certain “schtick” in his movies; but I’m still a fan. I appreciate his charismatic humor, and I knew what to expect from his latest movie Focus, a slick caper co-starring Margot Robbie (The Wolf of Wall Street).

The movie begins with a happenstance meeting between Robbie’s character Jess and Smith’s Nicky. Jess is a budding hustler, but quickly meets her match in the seasoned Nicky. After her amateurish attempt to con him, Nicky agrees to show her a few tricks of the trade. From grifter to pickpocket, Nicky has the hustler’s full repertoire and takes Jess under his wing, bringing her in on his latest hustle in New Orleans. Equal parts gambler, swindler, and magician – the silver-tongued Nicky approaches his craft with keen precision.

The second act of the film finds Nicky and Jess honing in separately on the same mark, but for very different reasons. They’re used to playing dangerous games, but the easiest way to get yourself killed is to steal from the wrong person – and one wrong move could make this con their last. Neither is willing to back down from a potential score, but for once is Nicky out of his league? His scheme goes awry when Jess is added to the mix, and their feelings for each other compromise their judgment. Sometimes you have to know when to just walk away.

While Focus was largely entertaining, I can’t say it was completely original. Of course Nicky and Jess have smoldering chemistry from the start. Just look at them. While their sexy banter made sense, it was almost too obvious. The two became an item nearly immediately, which didn’t leave much room for the characters to develop romantically. Admittedly I was surprised when Nicky abruptly ended their brief criminal courtship early on, but it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths again.

I enjoyed Focus, but it’s largely a forgettable movie. It was entertaining, and the plot twist caught me off guard, so I’d say it surpassed my meager expectations. It ranks solidly in the middle of Smith’s catalogue, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Robbie and Smith have undeniable chemistry, and the pair is rumored to reunite in the upcoming Suicide Squad. That film should reinforce Smith as the action hero we’ve come to love, and propel Robbie’s ascending star even further. In the meantime we have Focus, which won’t set the world on fire but was definitely worth watching. Grade: B

The Wolf of Wall Street

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”  There are few among us whose lives embody the words of famed journalist Hunter S. Thompson, but some people come close.  Jordan Belfort was such an individual, setting Wall Street ablaze in the early 90s like a real life Gordon Gekko on crack.  No, really.  On crack.

Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio, The Great Gatsby) began humbly, learning the ropes as a rookie stockbroker at a modest Wall Street firm under the tutelage of senior broker Mark Hanna (Matthew McCounaghey, Dallas Buyers Club).  Hanna’s words of advice would form the blueprint for Belfort’s lifestyle, with Hanna advising him on everything from drug usage to a schedule for self-pleasuring.  Belfort did well for himself, a natural salesman gifted with a silver tongue.  That gift of gab would serve him well after his first brokerage house folded and he found himself selling penny stocks in a Podunk “firm” off the beaten Wall Street path.  It’s a huge step down at first glance, but Belfort quickly realizes an untapped gold mine.

Soon, Belfort was suckering pitiful souls out of their investment in a pump and dump scheme that left him with eyes on even bigger sights.  He recruited a handful of buddies back home, various hustlers in their own right.  With a trusted core in place, he opened his own firm called Stratton Oakmont, applying all that he’d learned to much bigger fish.  Dealing exclusively with wealthy investors, their profits increased even more and they were making money hand over fist.  Raucous office parties including hookers and cocaine were not uncommon, and capitalist hedonism ruled the day.

The film chronicles Belfort’s meteoric rise and subsequent fall from the precipice of a lifestyle filled with sex, drugs and a never-ending supply of money and women.  Scorsese effectively pulled back the curtain, exposing a lifestyle that few of us will ever witness.  Belfort’s indifference about the lives he ruined took a backseat to his zealous pursuit of the almighty dollar.  It was a familiar motif, with greed serving as faceless antagonist.  Eventually Belfort will burn out, and if the law doesn’t get him, the drugs will.

DiCaprio’s character was abhorrent, but there was a devil-may-care affability that I found likable – at least initially.  If you like to root for the bad guys in movies, it’s one of many reasons you’ll love this film.  DiCaprio has the astounding ability to immerse himself in a role so deeply that I don’t even see him anymore.  He was Jordan Belfort.  Although Belfort’s professional judgment was morally bereft, DiCaprio showed the duality of the character through the loyalty of his personal relationships – particularly his friendships.  Enter Jonah Hill (This Is The End) as Donnie Azoff, Belfort’s neighbor who observes his lifestyle and wants in.   Hill is really a gifted comedic actor, evincing versatility with a perfect balance of humor and levity.  From Superbad to Moneyball, his range is impressive and was on full display here.

Belfort’s story was the inspiration behind 2000’s Boiler Room, and comparisons to that movie and others of its ilk such as Wall Street are nearly inevitable.  Where Wolf surpasses its predecessors is in its deft storytelling, courtesy of Terrence Winter (Boardwalk Empire, The Sopranos) and Belfort’s source material.  Furthermore, Martin Scorsese hasn’t missed a beat as a filmmaker.  The same man that brought us seminal classics Goodfellas and Casino nearly 20 years ago is just as adept behind the camera now as he was back then.  In fact, The Wolf of Wall Street reminded me of Goodfellas in many ways, from the immediate narration of its protagonist to the hallmark Scorsese score.

The film was unquestionably a vehicle for DiCaprio’s talents, but the supporting performances were nearly as strong, with impressive turns from the aforementioned Hill and Margot Robbie (Pan Am), who smoldered as Belfort’s mistress turned second wife Naomi.  I initially resisted the prevailing notion that DiCaprio was one of the preeminent actors of our generation, but I’m beginning to agree.  His resume tells no lies, and this performance ranks right up there with the likes of his turn in The Departed, although he did not receive an Oscar nomination for that role.  He’ll certainly receive one here, and he couldn’t be more deserving.  He and Scorsese are every bit the tandem that Scorsese and DeNiro once were, and this pairing might be their best.  Grade: A.

This post first appeared at Poptimal and was reprinted with permission.