The Suicide Squad

An invigorating blast of bloody, disreputable comic-book cinema, "The Suicide Squad" turns its titular criminals into a collection of lovable anti-heroes set loose in a dazzling, surprisingly emotional adventure.

The thing that makes The Suicide Squad so singularly distasteful is closely related to its factory-installed cynicism: the unconscionable glibness that grows out of it.

If there was even an iota of human emotion evident the movie would be unbearable as well as increasingly vile. But there isn't, so instead it's just kind of exhausting...

If the ham-fisted glut of multi-million dollar special effects don't dazzle you, then the calibre of The Suicide Squad's genuinely impressive ensemble cast by all rights should.

The movie is too much, too long, but not lacking in its glories. To find them, follow Harley. She's leading the way.

Gunn's movie is wondrously wild, delightfully deranged and viscerally violent.

The Suicide Squad feels like the twilight of the age of superhero movies, making way for a new form of megablockbuster to exchange places.

Gunn’s script, while never as clever as it believes itself to be, is rarely dull. It might not linger in the mind the way it wants to, but there’s no denying that The Suicide Squad represents a step in a better direction.

It is a deeply political and culturally critical movie about the state of the world without ruining the fun. The movie plays with the callousness and dispensability of life sacrificed for the US government’s policies, which are not idealized

Gunn kept audiences on their toes with action that could have been ripped from the comic books, humor that was sharp and landed hit after hit, and still a surprising amount of heart that made it easy to cheer on these mischievous characters.