Viola Davis | Screenlife Reviews

What does the director of two of the most popular Marvel films do when the studio fires him? Well if you’re James Gunn you get to work for the competition, with the reboot/sequel to 2016’s dismal Suicide Squad, conveniently and confusingly titled The Suicide Squad. It certainly doesn’t seem like Gunn holds any ill will towards the MCU which has now re-hired him but it’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a little revenge channelled into what amounts to DC’s own version of Guardians of the Galaxy, only better in almost every way. With a surprisingly endearing core cast of outsiders and plenty of gore and crass humour, The Suicide Squad is an endless ride of entertainment, even if it does steer into familiar territory for Gunn.

For those who wisely steered clear of the 2016 original David Ayer directed film, have no fear, you will miss out on absolutely nothing plot-wise, as the concept of the squad – outlaws with bombs implanted in their heads sent on dangerous missions in exchange for reduced sentences – is quickly explained within the opening minutes. From here its all cylinders firing as the returning Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) gathers her team of misfit criminals – the central crew consisting of Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), team leader Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), Idris Elba’s assassin Bloodsport, John Cena’s peace-loving mercenary Peacemaker, clinically depressed Polka Dot Man (David Dastmalchian), the rodent controlling Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior) and King Shark (voiced by the great Sylvester Stallone) – and sends them on their merry way to infiltrate and destroy a defunct Nazi base on the South American island of Corto Maltese which secretly houses a scientific project with world-ending potential.

It’s a deceptively simple plot that Gunn manages to wring every last drop of movie out of, throwing in side-quests and more than a few twists and turns to keep the viewers on their toes. Not the least shocking of these is his commitment to live up to the name of the film. No one is safe and while the central team consists of those previously mentioned, there are many other obscure DC characters assigned to the mission, not all of whom make it out alive. This is explained to you through a brutally bonkers opening scene that sets the irreverent tone Gunn continues to build on perfectly: he might bring in one of your favourite comic characters who otherwise would never have had a chance at a big screen feature, only to blow their heads off a few minutes later.

At this point Gunn has all but trademarked his signature style of film, favouring stories of found families and disparate, conflicting personalities that must be brought together for the greater good and honing it with each retelling. Now, unrestricted by PG ratings and having to tie the story to a larger shared universe, the writer/director has perfected the formula, with a superbly written script that really understands the interplay between these huge, criminally insane personalities. It says a lot that he can take a character like the Polka Dot Man – a guy who literally excretes and shoots multicoloured, corrosive polka dots from his skin – and make him such a deeply sympathetic and dryly hilarious figure. A man who hates himself and has completely resigned his fate to death but who can’t help but find some gleeful joy in being a super-hero. Even a throwaway comment lamenting a largely pointless side-character’s demise does a lot to highlight the depth of the writing – these characters are more than their goofy superhero gimmicks, they’re fully rounded people that you can’t help but root for.

The casting is obviously a huge reason that the writing succeeds in the way it does. Dastmalchian is excellent as Polka Dot Man alongside other standouts in Elba, Cena and Stallone. Elba’s Bloodsport is the most obvious leading man stereotype of the bunch and it’s plain to see that Gunn is having a great time deconstructing that stereotype, giving the character a crippling fear of rats before plonking him on the same team as someone who literally controls all of them. And Elba goes for it, cowering from the rodents and turning his back on the team time and time again in a way that other leading men of the 80’s and 90’s would never do for fear of diminishing their masculinity. When push comes to shove he doles out the expected level of ass-kicking but just knowing that small flaw goes a long way to being able to attach to the character amidst all the chaos.

If Bloodsport is the stoic, quietly calm assassin, then John Cena’s Peacemaker is the complete opposite: a boastful, arrogant mercenary who doesn’t care how many people he has to kill to achieve it. It is easily his best performance to date, still as physically imposing as ever but unintentionally and hilariously self-deprecating in the complete paradox he has devoted his entire being to. The sheer stupidity Gunn has Peacemaker saying at times – delivered with a deathly serious, almost militaristic deadpan – is absolutely hilarious and the constantly bickering, macho rivalry between Peacemaker and Bloodsport ensures that there is always a joke or exasperated sigh to put a smile on your face, even in the middle of a massacre. Then there is King Shark, a giant half-man, half-shark dullard who steals every scene he is in. That’s largely due to the inherent hilarity of him being voiced by Sylvester Stallone, whose line readings sound like even he doesn’t know what is going on (Gunn gets bonus points for having Rocky himself repeatedly say “nom-noms”). He’s more than just another Groot-like animal sidekick however, with a sweet friendship with Daniela Melchior’s Ratcatcher 2 that hits on an emotional level more than it has any right to.

The downside of making three consecutive films in a row with similar plots and character archetypes is that the audience starts to notice the rhythm and crutches that Gunn tends to rely on. Just about every time we build to some kind of profound dramatic or emotional moment we cut to a comedic moment instead, which at this point is less funny and jarring than it is annoying. You know it is coming but sometimes it would feel far more gratifying to actually see these characters hit their big emotional beats rather than cut away and imply that these are already known. The bizarre positive of that is that Gunn builds a strange sense of anticipation in the audience when he gears up for one of these moments. You know that a big tonal shift is coming and the fact that it could be anything from a dick joke to somebody being dismembered keeps things fresh in a way that the Guardians films could never achieve without the shock factor of an R rating.

What could initially be seen as ill fortune has turned out to be a blessing in disguise for James Gunn, who has crafted his most outright enjoyable and sharply written film to date with The Suicide Squad. Taking a left turn where most superhero films would go right ensures that things stay fresh throughout the motley crew’s adventure; whether that be through the sheer insanity of the characters on-screen, the over-the-top gore or the constant stream of NSFW gags. If this is what the man can do with characters like Captain Boomerang and The Detachable Kid (as stupid as it sounds), then give James Gunn the keys to the whole DC kingdom and watch him go.

The Suicide Squad stars Margot Robbie, Idris Elba, John Cena, Joel Kinnaman, Viola Davis, Jai Courtney, Peter Capaldi, David Dastmalchian, Daniela Melchior, Michael Rooker, Alice Braga, Pete Davidson, Nathan Fillion, Sean Gunn, Flula Borg & Sylvester Stallone – In cinemas now and streaming on HBO Max in the US.

9/10

One of the biggest tragedies of the terrible year that was 2020 was the loss of Chadwick Boseman. The young actor was on the cusp of superstardom with his brilliant turn as the king of Wakanda in Marvel’s Black Panther and diverse roles in 42 and Get on Up cementing him as a terrific talent to watch. His final role in George C. Wolfe’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is made even more bittersweet by the fact that it is best work, an award-worthy showcase of raw talent snatched away far too soon. Paired with the always stellar Viola Davis as legendary blues singer Ma Rainey, the duo clash as they both strive for their independence in different ways, resulting in some truly enrapturing monologues that capture all the intensity and desperation of the African-American push in the 1920s to gain respect and recognition in America.

Boseman plays Levee, a talented, upstart trumpeter in Ma Rainey’s back-up band who feels the time has come to start his own band and put himself on the map within the Jazz community. During rehearsals at a Chicago studio prior to a recording session, Levee begins to clash with the other members of Ma’s band, who become angered by his arrogance and lack of respect for Ma – a woman who has given him the chance of a lifetime and pushed the boundaries for African-American artists in an industry which had constantly rejected them. As Levee’s frustration with his status begins to grow, so too does Ma’s, as she defiantly battles with white studio executives to avoid having her artistic vision compromised to increase sales. As tensions rise all around, decisions are made that will fracture futures and make or break lifelong dreams.

Adapted from famous African-American playwright August Wilson’s arguably seminal play, Wolfe has his work cut out for him in transferring that single location setting to the screen and making it interesting. What could have been a technically boring film of speeches and conversations absolutely sings thanks to the smooth and fluent camerawork, which spins and careens around the room as the band-mates converse, highlighting each of them as they say their piece and immediately flicking around to capture the response. It makes what amounts to an hour and a half of talking riveting and captivating cinema that keeps you on the edge of your seat as the conversations become more personal and intimate and the hardships and trauma of these four men are laid bare. This energy is infused into the dialogue as well, which is never preachy but always hard-hitting and to the point. These men have all been through hell in their own ways, Levee maybe more than the rest, so slowly unravelling their stories through these conversations not only invests you in the characters but in the struggle of the African-American community for respect and recognition in America.

Then there are the performances, which put simply, are world class. Davis is almost unrecognisable as Ma Rainey, drenched in makeup and wearing an extravagant gold grill, she completely commits to the character, carrying herself with a mixture of well-earned arrogance, pride and fear that all that she has worked for will be ripped away if she does not stand up for herself. When Levee or the studio executives begin to overstep their boundaries, Ma does not hesitate to put them in their place – whether that be through her ferocious temper or diva-like behaviour that adds some levity to the otherwise heavy proceedings. Boseman is transformative as Levee who is initially wide-eyed and hopeful about his future, but as the discussion veers into his backstory and the plight of the African-American community you realise there is far more to this troubled young man than just his hopes for a Jazz-filled future. The mad glint in his eyes may seem like a reflection of the hunger and excitement for becoming his own man but under the surface is a darkness and fear bubbling away born from some truly horrifying, eye-opening trauma from Levee’s past. There are two monologues in particular where Boseman lays everything on the table, shattering nerves and breaking your heart as he breaks down and begins to crumble. These scenes alone should net Boseman a posthumous Oscar but he never lets that intensity and energy lapse, carrying it the entire film until the shocking finale.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is a showcase for two of the finest actors of this generation, one tragically taken far too soon. Boseman and Davis are electric and captivating on levels audiences didn’t think they could reach, easily some of the best performances of the year and worthy of the inevitable awards consideration. George C. Wolfe’s film isn’t content to rest on the laurels of these two superstars, however, crafting a beautifully shot and decorated film that benefits from its swift pace to carry you through captivating discussions of the African-American experience in a different time. The themes and trauma of the characters, however, are still as relevant today as ever, especially in the heated climate of 2020, making this one of the most important films of the year; as informative and eye-opening as it is enjoyable to watch.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom stars Viola Davis, Chadwick Boseman, Colman Domingo, Michael Potts, Taylour Paige, Dusan Brown & Glynn Turman – Streaming on Netflix now.