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How 'Suicide Squad' Messed Up Harley Quinn. She's introduced hanging from the top bars in her cell like some demented Cirque de Soleil acrobat, to the retro strains of Aussie singer Grace's cover of Lesley Gore's 1. Watch Ekstase Online Mic. You Don't Own Me." She is pale, giggly, calculating and off her proverbial rocker. She's a woman at the mercy of sadistic men, many of them, in fact — some of whom "love" her enough to jump in after her when she dives into a vat of acid (which they've coerced her into doing) and others who like watching her seductively lick the bars of her maximum- security home away from home.

Those folks know, however, that given the chance, she'll put five of them in the hospital.) She's a Bronx gal who's handy with a bat. She is Shiva, the bringer of death, in smeared clown make- up. Her name is Harley Quinn, and you've probably seen legions of her admirers skipping around every Halloween. As played by Margot Robbie, she's the best thing about Suicide Squad, the big DC Universe bring- on- the- bad- guys extravaganza that desperately wants to prove the burgeoning multiverse franchise can do dark and funny. Everything the film wants to be is in that performance.

And Harley is, hands down, the single biggest piece of collateral damage involved in this scorched- earth, soul- killing cinema du superhero blockbuster. You can forgive many of its sins.

Gavin O'Connor is on board to write the sequel to "Suicide Squad," and is also in talks to direct the film.

You can't forgive nearly ruining a complex, iconic character who deserves way better than this. Yes, Suicide Squad is as bad as you've heard.

“maybe Superman was some kind of beacon for them to creep out from the shadows.” which may not be referring to the Suicide Squad, but other demonic entities.

It's not quite the flaming Hindenberg of tentpole movies or, as some have said, as wretched as last summer's Fantastic Four. You will see worse superhero movies, to be sure; if you've seen big studio projects that rhyme with Schmarcraft and Schmalice Through the Schmooking Schmlass, you've endured worse disasters this year. But it's bad. And the major criticisms against it — that something was compromised and defanged in the name of a PG- 1. Jared Leto's cartel- druglord- chic Joker is barely in it; that it apparently got a Costco- bulk deal for its soundtrack; that its incoherent storytelling resembles a comic- book Burroughs cut- up — are all 1. You can petition to shut down Rotten Tomatoes all you want.

Maybe redirect that rage to the DC/WB powers that be. No wonder Harley is a cosplay favorite. She's the Joker with an XX edge. Robbie gets that.

But the biggest letdown is the way the movie underserves both Harley and the actor playing her, because buried beneath the debris of third- verse- same- as- the- first set pieces is some incredibly interesting, go- for- baroque work that Robbie is doing. Those who know her from the animated Batman series and the best- selling comic books know she's a complex character, having evolved from nameless Joker's sidekick to the Clown Prince of Crime's codependent moll to name- in- the- title heroine who's, in writer Abraham Riesman's words, "Jewish, queer, morally questionable, deeply imperfect and beloved by millions." (You can read a deep- dive into Quinn's various incarnations here.) It might have been asking a lot to stuff her many painted faces into a movie already burdened with juggling a lot of actors, characters, future movie set- ups and baggage. Robbie knows this, as much as she knows this is the film's breakout character, the unhinged id of the whole group. So she goes all in on the crazy, offering up a gloriously anarchic version of Quinn that's more than the sum of her Daddy's Lil' Monster baseball tee, hot pants and fishnets. All that candy- colored carnage and irreverence we were promised in those stunning trailers — what actually makes it in to the movie comes from her, one grinning bat- to- the- skull at a time. She laces in pathos and empowerment amidst the psychopathy and pining over her green- haired "puddin,'" notably when she's yelling at another fucked- up Squad cohort with issues: "Own that shit! You own it." If Harley is indeed a pawn of the Joker and Viola Davis' predatory patron Amanda Waller, not to mention what Buzzfeed called "damaged dolly jerk- off material," Robbie's version is also someone who owns her damage, her weaponized sexuality, her no- holds- barred cuckoo- ness.

There's a sick giddiness to the way she relishes her acting out every violent tendency that pings through her cross- wired cranium, a reveling in her villainy — what every member of DC's Dirty Half- Dozen should be doing. No wonder Harley is a cosplay favorite.

She's the Joker with an XX edge. Robbie gets that.

Or rather, that's what the actor channels when she's allowed to do it. The tragedy is that you can see a great performance peeking through the surface here, a suggestion of the sick joke this movie could have been. There are layers that are being hinted at here, of PTSD and unhealthy push- pull dynamics between lovers, of a cracked person who expresses herself in chaos- reigns broad strokes, of someone who can be sad one second and animalistic the next.

The film's best moment involves someone trying to pull Quinn from the windshield of an underwater car — and her reaction is to lash/slash out with a blade.) Robbie is clearly trying to inject unpredictability into a movie that keeps swerving into noisy, numbing predictability, while seemingly dropping in peekaboos of fan- favorite iterations: abusee, abuser, sexed- up Venus flytrap, lovesick loose cannon, a feminist avenger who has to jet off to cameo in the Lemonade video .. Sapphic incarnation. The film keeps slotting her back into blood- specked fetish- object mode, a reduction rather than a reclamation, merely one man's "fire in my loins, the itch in my crotch." (That's a line from the Joker, by the way, and not from a Vanity Fair profile.)Somewhere out in the world, there's a cut of Suicide Squad that has all of Robbie's takes playing off each other like funhouse mirror reflections, and would showcase what could very well be a definitive — or less demeaning — screen version of Harley. That movie is not what you'll get when you plunk down your cash to soak in the supervillain sound and fury this weekend. Instead, we have to live with a compelling, flawed Clown Princess of Crime and her wisecracks, and what could still be a star- making turn for Robbie if this beached whale of a blockbuster doesn't sink her career.

She's still the most livewire thing about this endeavor. Give her a solo film and a girlfriend. Explore her contradictions. Pass her some gasoline, a match and let the lady watch the world burn her way. Watch The Crash HDQ.

Gavin O’Connor to Write and Direct Sequel – Variety. Gavin O’Connor is on board to write the sequel to “Suicide Squad,” and is also in talks to direct the film that stars Will Smith, Margot Robbie, and Jared Leto. The movie is a top priority at Warner Bros. DC properties (the other being New Line’s “Shazam!”) to begin production next year. Given the ensemble’s busy schedule, the shoot wasn’t expected to start until fall of 2. So while there’s still time, the studio is eager to get someone on board to pen a script.

Zach Penn wrote a previous draft. Following the news that David Ayer, who directed the first movie, would not be back, the open directing job has been one of the biz’s most highly- touted gigs. Ayer directed the last supervillain tentpole, which was a huge hit for Warners — despite earning negative reviews — bringing in more then $7.

O’Connor was already on a shortlist that included filmmakers Jaume Collet- Serra and Mel Gibson, both of whom were considered the studio’s prime targets before they decided to tackle other projects. O’Connor has always seemed like a logical choice, given his history with the studio. He most recently directed the action- drama “The Accountant,” which Warner Bros. O’Connor is set to return to direct and Ben Affleck will be back to star. O’Connor is repped by WME. Watch Disorganized Crime Streaming here.