"Suicide Squad," DC's latest blockbuster directed by David Ayer, is Hot Topic's wet dream.

While nursing a cocktail at a bar, Harley Quinn reminds her villain pals that "normal is just a setting on the washing machine," inciting a collective eye roll from the theater. This quote is on the same cringe-inducing caliber as, "Come to the dark side, we have cookies," which is so Hot Topic circa 2006, that I had to check to make sure My Chemical Romance hadn't just released "The Black Parade."

In fact, "Suicide Squad" might have been a better film had it been released in 2006.

But instead, it's bad. Plain and simple. It even managed to make the dour and uninspiring "Batman vs. Superman" look good, which is not a testimony to either DC film.

"Suicide Squad" kicks off with hardened government operative Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) assembling an expendable team of Gotham super baddies including, Deadshot (Will Smith), Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), Diablo (Jay Hernandez) and Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje). This unlikely team, led by the forgettable Col. Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman), is tasked with a top-secret mission. To ensure their cooperation, each villain has been implanted with a micro-bomb that Flag can detonate should they vex him or attempt to flee.

I know what you're thinking. How the hell could a movie about anti-heroes (they've got a sewer-dwelling crocodile man, for heaven's sake) turn out to be so, well...sucky? It's as much of a mystery as it is a shame.

I wanted "Suicide Squad" to be good. I truly did. But as the Rolling Stones once crooned, you can't always get what you want.

Speaking of the Stones, their song "Sympathy for the Devil" was used in the film's opening...as was The Animals' "House of the Rising Sun" AND Lesley Gore's "You Don't Own Me." Needless to say, this crowded intro felt a whole lot like a fan's 8-tracks playlist.

Unlike Marvel's "Guardian's of the Galaxy," where classic rock hits such as Redbone's "Come and Get Your Love" and David Bowie's "Moonage Daydream" were interwoven in the plot with finesse, "Suicide Squad" doesn't seem to know what to do with it's impressive soundtrack. There were certain instances in which the music added flavor to a scene, notably the use of K7's "Come Baby Come" in Harley Quinn's brief, but badass scuffle in an elevator. Otherwise, the use of beloved chart toppers seemed trite and clumsy.

The movie seemed to have a bit of an identity crisis. First of all, the "suicide" aspect of the title is virtually meaningless. It really should have been called the Deadshot Show, as it is Smith's hitman who is the linchpin of the movie. The very little (and thin) characterization there is in the film was exercised on Deadshot, with the inclusion of his doting daughter. This focus on Smith was not something I had deduced from the damn near excessive advertising for the movie, which seemed to indicate that Margot Robbie's Factory girl version of Harley Quinn would be Suicide Squad's mascot. But, regardless, Quinn was a bright spot.

The acting was fine. It was obvious that the cast, Robbie in particular, were trying their hardest to make the best of the material given to them. And I truly believe that they gave it their all, which goes to show just how easily terrible writing can spoil a film.

The inclusion of Japanese superheroine Katana (Karen Fukahara) was puzzling and never given a proper explanation. Why on earth would a woman hell-bent on avenging her slain husband take time out of her busy schedule to assist a band of misfit villains? Who flipping knows. David Ayer sure doesn't. Regardless, I was glad she was included if for no other reason than to be calm and cool.

More confusing was the inclusion of Adam Beach's Slipknot who, while barely relishing in five minutes of screen time, is egged by Australian kleptomaniac Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney) to escape and was evidently killed (via the explosive implant in his neck) for doing just that. I know his death was supposed to be a homage to the comic, but what a waste of the audience's, and frankly, Adam Beach's time.

In what I gathered was a flat attempt at comic relief, the movie included a mention of Captain Boomerang's "fetish for pink unicorns." I don't get it either. Before a big fight, Captain Boomerang is seen hiding a pink unicorn plushie in the breast pocket of his trenchcoat. And in a following scene where he is stabbed in the chest, the knife is shown to have impaled a hefty wad of cash, leaving our thieving Aussie unscathed.

Naturally, I had questions. First, how damn big is this man's jacket? And second, why didn't the director use this as an opportunity to utilize the unicorn gimmick they had not-so-tacitly set up? It would have been amusing to watch Captain Boomerang get angered at seeing his stuffed friend skewered.

And no shade to Jai Courtney, but did any one else feel that Tom Hardy would have made a perfect (if not better) Cap. Boomerang? Think about it.

When it comes to the costuming of the female characters, there's a lot to unpack. The concept of being a badass while adorned in sexy apparel, which Robbie's Harley Quinn does with dazzle and grace, can be liberating. And yet even this empowerment is ruined by the camera's continual focus on Quinn's hot-panted behind, which is very Michael Bay (I don't mean this politely) of Ayer.

I also wondered why Enchantress (Cara Delevingne) was stuck gyrating in a Princess Leia bikini -- and sucking face with people in order to turn them into sludge zombies -- while her brother got to be this imposing, non-human entity, who did not have to suck face. Not a single one. The bikini was still pretty cool.

Deadshot may never miss, but this movie sure as hell did.

Let's just pray to the comic book gods that "Wonder Woman" is a far better DC feature.

Note: I didn't bother discussing the Joker in detail because frankly, my perception of Leto's Joker was so severely tainted by Heath Ledger's spectacular portrayal that I have no commentary to make.