Isn’t this movement today towards forced inclusiveness a form of racism itself? The focus is being put on the skin color. Isn’t that, by the broadest definition of the word, racism? There are many who laud this increased inclusiveness, this expansion in racial diversity in the field, and rightfully so, as there SHOULD be greater diversity. Not every superhero should be white, Christian, American, and male, as they largely have been since the beginnings of the comic book pop culture phenomenon. But are the companies going about it the right way? That’s the question. By forcing it to happen too quickly, are they in fact devaluing the steps they are taking, undermining those advancements? Again, those whose focus is on the unfairness of the world in which comic heroes were allowed, for so many decades, to be white Anglo-Saxon Protestant males, sans black characters, sans gay characters, sans strong female characters, then the fix can’t be forced too speedily. I don’t cotton to that way of thinking, however. Does that make ME somehow complicit in the disparity, which is really discrimination? Does that make ME racist? What’s the difference between me and the guy who just prefers having all white superheroes?

The difference, I think, is that I recognize that, historically, there has been a problem, that a lack of diversity remains a problem, and that the problem SHOULD be addressed. The debate is on the manner in which it would be best addressed. I disagree with the manner in which Marvel and DC and the rest are going about it, but I nevertheless applaud their efforts towards a desired end.

Even by comic book standards, this character isn’t going to stay dead for long. I remember back when DC foolishly let Grant Morrison, the most overrated writer in comics, as far as I’m concerned, kill off Bruce Wayne and replace him with former Robin Dick Grayson. The powers-that-be at DC promised that we wouldn’t be seeing Bruce again for a long time. Then sales figures must have spoken, because faster than a snap of the fingers Bruce was back and there was talk of killing off Dick! It’s absurd. Just as absurd as the recent killing off of the Incredible Hulk, Bruce Banner. The latter, though, may prove even more ridiculous, as his “death” will likely last for an even shorter duration.

It’s true that Marvel hasn’t been using Bruce too much here lately, instead focusing on their boy-genius-cum-“totally awesome” hulk (note the lowercase “h”) Amadeus Cho. (Oh, I forgot to mention the most important attribute of the new hulk; he’s a totally awesome KOREAN boy genius, yet another example of Marvel forced PC tokenism.) Box Office dollars are far more powerful than PC notions, though, and there’s a new THOR movie coming out next year, a film in which the Hulk (note the capital “H”) is playing a major role. We can expect Bruce to stay “dead” until opening night, at the latest. Pathetic gimmickry.

source: comicvine.gamespot.com

So Rob Liefeld has come out with a brutal, scathing indictment of SUICIDE SQUAD. Who gives a rat’s ass? Nobody SHOULD, but unfortunately Liefeld is milking his status as the co-creator of Deadpool for all that its worth and has thus managed to gain the ear of pop culture hipsters who don’t know anything else about him, don’t know how ungodly BAD the vast majority of this goober’s work is and has been, don’t remember Image in its early days; if they did, they’d know not to pay attention to anything this pipsqueak says about anything. Liefeld DREW Deadpool, originated the visual appearance of the character, but writer Louise Simonson created everything else having to do with him. The same way that Bob Kane tried to steal all the credit for creating Batman at the expense of Bill Finger, who did most of the heavy lifting, Liefeld has in the past sought to downplay Simonson’s role. True comics geeks know better—and we know not to give Liefeld the time of day.

Here’s an opinion that actually holds weight, that of writer John Ostrander, whose role in the Suicide Squad comic franchise is so prominent that he got a building in the film named after him. Ostrander nailed it with this statement: “I know some of the critics, both in print and online, do not like the movie. That’s okay; everyone has a right to their own opinion even when it’s wrong. My problem is that…the critic is also tired of superhero and “tentpole” films and, overtly or covertly, would like to see their end. Look, I get it— they have to see all the films out there and they must be tired of all the blockbusters…I think that’s [what is] going on here…Just as I came prepared to love the movie, they came prepared to hate it.” Damn straight, Johnnie! You tell ‘em!

With each biased, unprofessional, put-the-paycheck-before-any-shred-of-journalistic-integrity, clickbait-y, pretentious, and perfidious review a modern “professional” movie critic writes, he becomes less relevant. And this is a good thing. Simply put, we don’t need the critics anymore, not with the Internet. Moviegoers are perfectly capable of making up their own minds now, thank you very much, without some blowhard telling them how to think, and if a consensus of opinion on any particular film is needed or desired, one can connect with any number of peers with the click of a mouse to solicit said consensus. Critics are an endangered species; they are going extinct. They can’t die off fast enough to suit me.

SUICIDE SQUAD is a blast. Just as with BATMAN VERSUS SUPERMAN earlier this year, the piling-on of negative reviews is largely for show and equally as groundless. The acting here is fine and dandy: Leto brings his own take to the Joker, and while he isn’t onscreen nearly enough he is like a shot of nitrous surging through the narrative engine when he does make an appearance; Margot Robbie is terrific as Harley Quinn, managing to be adorable, pitiable, and scary all at the same time; Will Smith delivers a dead-on Deadshot; and Viola Davis is Oscar-worthy as Amanda Waller. (Frankly she’s Oscar-worthy in anything she does, but still.) I only had one complaint with the film; there is one big implausibility that the script never addresses: How the hell did Harley get hold of a cell phone?