Why Jared Leto’s Joker exemplifies everything wrong with Suicide Squad

In light of underwhelming critical reception, the performances of a few talented individuals are Suicide Squad’s only saving grace. Jared Leto’s portrayal of the Joker, in particular, has been the subject of much praise, with many fans complaining that he was not given enough screen time. This complaint is surprisingly apt, given that the film’s mishandling of the character represents many problems originating from a case of too-many-cooks-in-the-kitchen.

Just as the film failed to determine a consistent tone, the writers seemed unable to decide whether the Joker was a sub-plot character or a primary villain. This confusion led a sense of pointlessness to the character, especially in light of the previous two years of promotion. Furthermore, despite all the hype surrounding the intensity of Leto’s performance, the end result is rather underwhelming, leaning heavily on Heath Ledger’s previous incarnation of the character.

Throughout the film, we see the Joker attempting to rescue Harley Quinn, the object of his twisted desire… and that’s about it. His plotline is secondary, a tangent that doesn’t really fit with the film’s storyline. Certainly, Leto’s villain is engaging while he’s on camera, yet one feels like they are watching different movies as the story jumps back and forth between the Joker’s pursuit and the Suicide Squad’s mission.

The relationship between Harley Quinn and the Joker is analyzed through clunky flashbacks that do not give either character the depth needed to fully shine. Though the pair are not the only characters introduced in such rushed exposition, they do provide the most prominent example of the writers’ failure to follow the basic “show and don’t tell” rule. Shots of the Joker seducing Dr. Harleen Quinzel are too rushed for the viewer to empathize with the truly appalling nature of their relationship, and the end result is far more unsatisfying than if their backstory had been left a mystery.

Through this twisted relationship, the writers had a perfect opportunity to portray the depth of the Joker’s depravity, the horrifyingly seductive nature of his madness. Instead, they opted to use the Joker as a promotional piece and Harley Quinn as a fetishized sex object. Given that Margot Robbie’s performance was, perhaps, the film’s greatest aspect, it was disappointing to see her constantly tied down to a tangent plotline. The scenes in which the Joker was not mentioned were her strongest by far.

Margot Robbie's performance was the highlight of the film,
but she was continually tied down to a pointless plotline

Suicide Squad reeks of studio meddling, best seen in the handing of the Joker, right down to the casting of Jared Leto. The character seems to serve no purpose other than to create cool shots for the trailers and increase the film’s marketability.

Given how soon Suicide Squad comes after Christopher Nolan’s masterpiece The Dark Knight, comparisons to Heath Ledger’s previous incarnation were inescapable. As Ledger’s Joker was easily one of the greatest cinematic performances in recent memory, any actor taking up the mantle so soon would inevitably do so in his shadow. Viewers wanted to see how Leto would fair, and the studio knew this. Thus, they continually manipulated the Joker’s promotion and portrayal in order to increase hype around him.

Indeed, Leto’s reputation for method acting was probably the reason he was cast in the role. Consider the stories circulating of his intensity on set. According to the reports, Leto was so into character that he terrorized cast and crew with gifts of anal beads, used condoms, and dead animals. Will Smith even went so far as to say that he never met Jared Leto, just the Joker.

This echoes the stories that circulated back in 2008 about Heath Ledger’s method acting and the circumstances of his death. Reportedly, Ledger spent a month locked in his apartment preparing for the role and emerged fully in character, presenting an on-set intensity that few actors could match. Shortly afterwards, he died under initially unclear circumstances. All this led an air of mystery to the film and to the villain, and farther deepened the film’s themes of madness and power.

Unfortunately, intense acting does not always equal a good performance, something Suicide Squad doesn’t seem to realize. Such intensity of acting has to be combined with effective writing and direction, as well as a purpose. In The Dark Knight, Ledger’s performance was used to enhance Nolan’s themes and ideas; in Suicide Squad, a generic summer blockbuster with little substance to it, Leto’s performance seems empty and pretentious.

In scenes like this one, Leto's intensity could have been
used to elevate the film somewhat

Suicide Squad’s Joker owes a lot to his predecessor. The attempted realism, his mobster-like stylization, and the on-set stories of the actors all echo back to Heath Ledger. Regardless of the film’s (many) writing errors around the character, this heavy reliance on his predecessor gives the character a sense of familiarity that doesn’t mesh with the praise Leto has gotten.

Indeed, I found the performance to be quite underwhelming. Was it good? Sure, especially when compared with the rest of the film. Was it amazing? No, not really. If you take away the hype, Jared Leto’s Joker is an unoriginal version of the character with very little to distinguish him from his predecessor. Or any other psychopathic film villain for that matter.

Simply put, Jared Leto’s performance is not as ground-breaking as he would like to imagine.

Suicide Squad was a (sometimes enjoyable) mess. The film couldn’t figure out what it wanted to be, and it relied too heavily on the hype surrounding a single secondary character. Despite being one of the film’s better performances, the writing of Leto’s Joker hindered the development of Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn (the film’s strongest asset), and caused an already confusing plot to become even more jumbled. All told, Leto's Joker represents a squandered element in a film with so much wasted potential.

A review of Neil Gaiman’s The View from the Cheap Seats

As someone who occasionally dabbles in words, I appreciate good writers.

Not just people who understands word choice and syntax (an important and often undervalued skill) or the mechanics of plot, but individuals who understand the unique power that words and stories can hold. In just a few marks on the page, writers have the power to change lives and alter realities, create worlds from nothing. Worlds that are very much real.

While many mediums achieve this goal, writing is uniquely collaborative in the way it does so. Without the input of the reader, writing does not work. The reader is imperative to the creation of a written story, and, as such, each reader’s experience with that work will be different. Middle-Earth would not exist without Tolkien, but neither would it exist without readers to interpret his words and bring his world to life in their minds.

No two readings of a novel, short story, or poem are the same.

When a reader engages a piece of literature, they bring to it their own experiences, their own biases, their own preconceptions. The reader cannot divorce themselves from the context in which they are reading, just as the words themselves cannot be divorced from the context in which they were written. The written work, as it exists in the writer’s head, is not the same as it exists in the reader’s head.

The true nature of the written word, any writing, is in constant flux, existing somewhere between the intentions of the author, the interpretation of the reader, and the context in which the words are written and read.

Neil Gaiman understands this fact better than most.

The View from the Cheap Seats is like an extended conversation with Gaiman, one of those discussions that ranges far from the original point, but from which both parties emerge with a far deeper understanding of one another.

In these essays, introductions, and speeches one is given the impression of knowing Gaiman intimately. He ruminates on all aspects of life, from writing and art, to the power of love and death. Rarely does he state his opinions and beliefs outright, yet they come through loud and clear. Gaiman does not condescend to his reader by assuming that they will share these beliefs; he is an observer, merely explaining the world as he sees it.

Incredibly astute in these observations, Gaiman puts things in terms that are often startlingly simple, yet all the more profound for that simplicity. What shines through in all these pieces is an incredible compassion for and insight into the world around him. Gaiman understands people, what drives them, and the profound power of art and writing.

Gaiman understands the potential of story, and he understands the power of words. Indeed, his particular love of writing, driven by a passion for art in all forms, is the message behind all these works. His understanding of art and life’s intimate love affair is unrivalled.

For those wishing to understand the creative mind, this book is perfect. For those wishing to know that they are not alone the world, this book is perfect. In many ways, this book is perfect, one that everyone should read.

Read Gaiman, and be inspired.