GDLP, Aug 10th 2k16

Do you knowww what. I had a solid weekend of real life and good art. It was sunny and great, and even the exhibitions I didn't enjoy, I enjoyed talking about. Like, Pre-empty at Evelyn Yard. It was necessarily bland, but its vacuousness was irritating rather than a resolve. It was like an honest, conspicuous placebo for neck pain, when you just need to neck some ibuprofen. I went to see Alex Katz at The Serpentine as well, which was confident in a really boring way. I do just enjoy standing in front of massive paintings, though. And Etel Adnan at The Sackler - fine but maybe too Colour Study for me? I fell in love easily with Ragnar Kjartansson at the Barbican but I had to rush through the show, so I’m going back. The work there made the feelings behind my chest rise, so I gotta go back and spend time with the art and myself and think about it all over again, much slower. I want to figure out how sadness can be cool. So, it’s been a weekend. Good people, good food. But mate, I went to see Suicide Squad on Sunday and I literally actually hated it. I sat there fuming. I think it was bad in explicitly bad ways so I'm gonna write you through them. 

 

The first half hour was like projectile vomit. The film rushed past the back stories of its superheroes, which I have decided is mean. Back stories are like narrative cordial (Orange is the New Black is perfectly generous with them, X-Men gets it right, Jessica Jones -) and Suicide Squad shot its narrative capital through a soda gun, out into the audience’s open mouth until it blubbered and choked on some very dilute content. So, I have also decided that Suicide Squad should have been a TV series. It should have taken its time and meant something. And (even) with Viola Davies at the helm, it should have been called How To Get Away With Sexism.

 

Made me CRINGE that any time Harley Quinn even took a breathe you could hear gross Dorito men across the cinema gagging-applausing-masturbating all over their deflated thighs. Is that why the cinema floor is so sticky. I want to die. Let me die. And this isn’t some sex-negative slight, or girl vs. girl insecurity. It isn’t anything (and in a perfect world I wouldn’t have to qualify shit). My problem is that Margot Robbie acted DEAD well but the camera, the production, the embarrassing script (and the hot, breathy reaction by the sweaty, vibrating audience) all worked to undo that power because actually she was just hot, her crazy was cute, and now dumb boys want something impossible and unhealthy. Never mind that her fiction is complex; that it is swings and roundabouts, violence and tiptoeing and full smiles and full love. Bye bye intelligence and painful human pains. (The directors quietly and reluctantly admitted that her being evil was a decision. She only quickly dropped into her superhero-maker-vat between thigh-gap shots and infantilism). Suicide Squad shortchanged us on character, like the director has bleached and laminated a comic and asked you to read it anyway. It kind of stings to watch. 

 

My other concerns were: Enchantress’ British/American accent flips, cinemas are always so cold, the film had bad comic timing, and the Joker wasn’t in it enough. The inconvenienced city population refugee quip was embarrassingly Western. I died at Enchantress’ ‘you haven’t got the balls’ line. Yeah, the script, I found, stunted some performances - Deadshot’s daughter in particular, and some of Katana’s lines were poor, too. Those moments you heard spoken lines in a film become caricatured written comic words - the awkwardness in that performativity, I cringed I cringed I cringed.

 

So basically, I spent the entire film like - you know when you’re with a group of friends but there's one person in the gang you’ve recently, bitterly fallen out with, and they make a joke but you clench your jaw so as not laugh? With Suicide Squad the joke wasn't even that funny, and I was left resenting the entire cinema audience for even reacting. I wish I had just waited to download it and watched it on like, a Wednesday night when I didn’t have to give a shit. Maaaaate, I feel bad for the actors, and I feel embarrassed for everyone else. 💥🙃🔫

b͓̽e͓̽s͓̽t͓̽ ͓̽v͓̽i͓̽e͓̽w͓̽e͓̽d͓̽ ͓̽i͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽l͓̽a͓̽n͓̽d͓̽s͓̽c͓̽a͓̽p͓̽e͓̽
͓̽o͓̽r͓̽ ͓̽o͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽a͓̽ ͓̽d͓̽e͓̽s͓̽k͓̽t͓̽o͓̽p͓̽

{ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔓𝔲𝔟𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥 𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫. 𝔚𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔧𝔬𝔟𝔰 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 - 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴𝔰 𝔫 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬 𝔬𝔫. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔰 2 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰, 𝔭𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔠 𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔰 - 𝔴𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔭𝔲𝔱; 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢. }

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