Warning: Spoilers to follow
I want to clear this up right away: I thought Suicide Squad was a good movie. Cinematically, casting-wise, etc. As far as movies go, it wasn’t one I was upset to have paid money to see.
That being said, there are some serious drawbacks that are the fault of heavy-handed editing and commercialism. Namely, the botched relationship developed between Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) and Joker (Jared Leto).
As a semi-dedicated fan of the DC universe (I personally prefer Marvel to be honest), the way Harley Quinn and Joker interacted, both at the present time and through flashbacks, was disappointing. Anyone who is familiar with the canon backstory of these two characters knows that their relationship is, for lack of a better word, fucked up.
Joker uses and abuses Harley, dragging her along through his rollercoaster of psychoses somewhere between head-over-heels romance and certifiable intimate partner violence. Granted, Harley has her own brand of mental instability; I in no way mean to paint her as a character lacking independence and agency. But the point is that, if Warner Bros. wanted to craft a Suicide Squad aligned with the DC storyline, they should have kept more scenes of Joker playing the villain to Harley Quinn instead of creating some tragic love story.
What I’ve noticed about the conversation thus far on this, however, is that it leaves out anyone not involved in DC lore. The problem with the Quinn-Joker relationship is not just one of misinterpretation and artistic license on the part of the editors. It’s deeper than that. The watered down relationship between the film’s two star characters is a result of Hollywood’s neurotic need to have romance anywhere they can fit it.
More than that, it’s a result of society’s discomfort with the realities of abuse. I mean, they managed to make the scene where Joker pressures her to jump into a vat of chemicals look…endearing. Just as important is the scenes that were left out all together; the latest of which to surface suggests that Joker contemplated killing Harley as she tried to climb up into the getaway helicopter. That certainly would’ve stained the “heroic rescuing boyfriend” dynamic of that scene.
Notice the difference between the Joker of this film versus Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight. All the explosive, unpredictable villainy that made Ledger’s portrayal so iconic was lost in the shadow of a possible romance storyline.
The inability to authentically address abusive relationships, the urge to consistently create romance whenever a female lead exists, and the lack of consistency in storyline for the sake of commercial success all come together to reveal a persistent gender issue in the film industry. The realities of women and female fictional characters deserve the same attention and support that we see on the other side of this gender binary. Failing to do so is ultimately a disservice to the art of filmmaking as well as to women.
