Category: UPSETTING DAY

Sucker Punch is a movie.

Sort of. Film taglines breathe failure, and Sucker Punch still shines with “You will be unprepared.” That’s the difference between grammar and flow: Final Draft lets that sentence go, but your brain still wants a divorce. Still, the tag has one edge: pure truth. Sucker Punch beats my ass, over and over again.

I’ve tried to review Sucker Punch for 14 years. Nothing. It’s defeated me every time. I’m 0-14-0 against Zack Snyder. I have better records against Eigong and God. Especially God.

I can’t explain it. Insulting Sucker Punch could fuel an entire career. SuckerPunchStillSucks.com is a sustainable platform, even as newsletters go the way of webcomics/flashmobs/smiles. One scene holds enough failure to undo the Apollo mission. The full film takes us back before paper. Yet language fails me each time, until margle lorp.

But I’ve trained. I’m hardened by a thousand calendar books. I can recap Sucker Punch without my left brain melting. It won’t be like last time, or the time before that, or the likely next time.

It’s really a lobotomy. Sort of. There’s multiple layers of stupid reality, each grosser than the last.

Either way, I’ve got this.

I might live. Let’s start with a high-level summary.

Sucker Punch is the story of an imaginary ballerina, imaginary ninja, and real sex crime martyr called Babydoll. No, too stupid. I already sound like I’ve mixed ketamine with ketamine. Let’s go higher.

Sucker Punch is a social statement by the director of Batman vs. Superman. He filters child abuse, sex slavery, and lobotomization through video game box art. Think A Serbian Film remade with cut Helldivers assets. If you like film, nerd shit, or women, fuck you. It’s less the death of art, and more the birth of nega-art slurry. Amusingly, humans are better at it than AI.

Starting with a montage set to “Sweet Dreams.” I’d call it a Eurythmics cover, but that’s fucking lie. We’re covering the Manson cover, which already sucks. This is an AMV of a cover of a cover of a song that never needed the first cover. Said AMV is about child abuse. I’ll spend the rest of this review/lifetime bitching about the script, so I’ll underline it here: Sucker Punch sounds just as good as it looks.

Enjoy the music video, because it’s the movie’s best gear. It’s all trauma hallucinations from here. I’ve loved ass and assassins my entire life, and Snyder makes me feel like a pacifist celibate. Which, in his defense, means his art inspires change. Mostly cape fans into illiterates, but change nonetheless.

The emotional remix (broad, overwrought) plays over Babydoll fighting off her stepfather, one of ten or so predators filling Sucker Punch like rapey robot masters. I hate to foist Pixar laws on anyone, but Snyder is ten years short of understanding Inside Out 2. It’s helpful to merge similar characters when your director’s cut is longer than The Fellowship of the Ring. It boosts chances of someone having an arc, even by accident.

The non-diagetic cover features vocals from our lead, Emily Browning, who Zack Snyder wants to fuck. He channels this through every non-cyborg in the movie, and also the cyborgs. You might associate those with neon adventure, but they suck here. A clever trap for critics: everything meaningless sucks, and everything with a point sucks more. Only one ideal survives: Browning-lust.

Babydoll hits her sister with friendly fire, for extra tragedy. Her trauma manifests as genre hallucinations, because Hollywood. But not until she’s enjoyed a little nose candy.

Alright, my white whale must be at least half dead. My brain stem feels like it’s been optimized by unelected incels. I’m told that foretells a golden age.

No.

No no no and no again that’s fucking impossible I didn’t tolerate Woodrow Wilson’s cult for four years to watch Zack whip himself for stroking off to Emily Browning’s pit sweat I have rights for at least another week and deserve better than confused models fighting nothingpunk robots over covers Zack cheaped out of paying post-dignity Marilyn Manson for this can’t be fucking real this is the worst thing happening to anyone in America

Well, Zack wins again. If I fall any further into the hole, we’ll have casualties. Like me. I can feel my annual heart episode approaching, and it’s not even March. But hey, we got through the entire opening scene.

Let’s try a less shit ninja waif movie. Another nested metaphor, if possible. A Gallant to Sucker Punch’s Quasimodo (the literary Quasimodo, he’s a dick). I don’t have a cursed library, but I have a posthuman browser history. There’s something there.

Like sugar dating. That works, right? Don’t make me go back to Snyder.

Welp. We’re trapped in Predator Town.

I wonder why I even try. Mankind’s story is melodramatic tragedy porn. You know, a Snyder flick. There’s no escape.

Hey! Endorphins! I remember those.

Honestly? Doomposting’s in vogue and fitting, but I still love life. We get some sweet kernels with the shit. The mayor may have slurped his way to freedom, but I get to enjoy virtuoso madness while plotting [redacted]. And this one’s special. A miracle balancing Sucker Punch in the lassmurder canon.

Wunderbar. Welcome to mob-flavored burnout.

Hate feels unstoppable on some nights/decades. After stumbling onto this movie late, I know it’s not true. Despite a fifteen-year Vendetta, I like Baby Assassins more than I hate Sucker Punch. I care more. I think about it more. Love is a measurably stronger force in my psyche—mine, guys—and that feels like both a miracle and infidelity. Probably normal.

Baby Assassins is a bit like–

Yeah, it’s an odd one. Baby Assassins is like Baby Assassins. Or its two sequels. Or its miniseries, which may be funnier but is a ten-ton pain to summarize, so fuck that. An entire Japanese subgenre of grunge-flavored action-comedy peaked while I was yelling about headlines. Another point in favor of containing doom to half your thoughts, tops. Unless you’re calling someone or throwing something.

The real dialogue’s funnier, by the way. I can spend this half of the article doing comedy club intros. Which is great! Who wants to headline? No coal of envy sears my heart. I write for fun, during normal hours, without “Lacrimosa” blaring from multiple speakers. Good job, Amadeus! Pulling for you. As soon as I buff these scratches off my desk.

Baby Assassins is your run in the mill martial arts black comedy buddy cop social satire. The premise is a bit of a nesting doll. I’ll lay it out, but Clown Bushido demands I warn you before explaining a joke. If you fear that pain –rightfully so– just watch the flick. I’m only elaborating since half of you justifiably assume this is just esoteric porn.

Doll Three’s a nice glimpse for me, as an outsider. Something to reflect on while cutting four thousand words from the next Armor of God Force article.

The alienation-from-labor aspect has natural gravity right now, given all the vampires we should burn to survive. But I’m drawn to the bond between a Warhammer Fantasy traditionalist, and a big city Age of Sigmar player. Can you imagine? Could similar flavors of lunatic overcome the marginal gap between them? Yes, that’s how movies work. But it’s funny here. Here’s our resident Rush Hour:

Amidst all the murder and art school shots, they mostly struggle to add up to a functional person. Not that I’ve ever met a functional standalone person. The whole world looks like different ratios of Mahiro and Chisato looking for help. Seems easier if you admit it.

Anyway, movie. There’s a lot of downtime. Often fatal, but the film uses it well.

There’s also some coming-of-age jabber in there, per the “baby” in the title. Either that’s in there, or a song about coloring. Though I’d still watch the action bookends in Baby Assassins without the joyfully off-kilter script. Take the opening, which is where we’ll close.

Like most nightmares, it starts with a job interview.

A retail gig, at a 7-Eleven with the serial numbers filed off. The inverse relationship between job desirability and interview pain remains intact. The shop’s a gang front, but that hardly matters. The problem’s the small business tyrant venting his opinions on The Youth, from their work ethic to their work ethic. Still, this is a fact-finding mission. This man doesn’t need to die today, or at all.

But the agency sent Mahiro. Alone. She…tries.

And he dies. His staff don’t dig their sudden unemployment, and elect to beat a teenage girl to death in the aisles. Which is why I’m more of a Wawa guy.

.

Mahiro’s played by John Wick stunt alumni Saori Izawa, and the series leans on it. A lot. Her contract might have another zero. The ensuing brawl is fast, brutal, and hilarious. Mahiro stabs like an angry badger, and you can play that either way. The war ends in a bit of slapstick I‘ll avoid ruining in text. Sorry for the edging, but it’s the one and only time I’ve bait-and-switched you. In February. 2025.

Besides, it’s not even the best fight.

He’s fun.

Thank director/writer Yugo Sakamoto for my annual good topic. We’re going right back to brain needles. Including Sucker Punch. If I could let that knife fight go, I wouldn’t relate to Yugo’s work. Stay sane-ish until then.

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Gellaho, who once tried to explain metaphors to Zack Snyder, but gave up after day nine.