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This is my idea for the Suicide Squad trailer. I thought it up after seeing the trailer for Mission Impossible Rogue Nation. Squad could be an awesome action movie with some political intrigue thrown in.
Anyways, here it is. Have the Mission Impossible trailer playing in the background while you read this, for effect.
Establishing shot of BELLE REVE, a super-max prison. Evening. The rust-colored sky frames the background as the camera rolls towards the grounds of the ominous structure.
-An ornately decorated office. Two men. One sits behind a desk, his face unseen. The other, a prisoner, is bound to a chair. His face is also unseen.
A VOICE is heard, distinguished, authoritative, slight European accent.
“Mr. Lawton, we no longer live in an age of soldiers and spies...”
-Several ground-to-air missile emplacements training their launchers skyward.
-A U.S. NAVAL BATTLE FLEET assembled in the middle of the Atlantic.
“We live in an age of gods...”
-SUPERMAN, a caped, messianic figure, hovering above a crowd who are reaching up to him.
-BATMAN, in a rain-soaked Gotham alley, his silhouette rising from the craggy asphalt, as if from within the ground itself like some shadowy demon. A raggedy criminal witnesses this, frightened into a slack-jawed silence as rain spatters against his face.
“But where there are greater dangers...”
-ARMED SPEC-OPS SOLDIERS moving through a corridor of an underground complex, guns trained, green laser-lights bobbing along.
“...there are greater opportunities.”
-SHOTS of the U.S. Capitol, The White House...
-The Distinguished Man clasps his hands together, elbows planted on his desk.
“And a man in my position cannot allow a man with your unique talents..."
-A fully masked and armed DEADSHOT taking on a panoply of colorful mobsters in a dingy warehouse, spinning gracefully as he effortlessly picks off hopelessly outclassed gunmen with pistols akimbo. Corpses are raining down around him, smashing down on tables and the stained concrete.
“...to stay retired.”
-Lawton flexes his shackled wrists, no way to resist.
“So, are you, Mr. Lawton, the infamous assassin known as Deadshot, or are you just a man whose daughter is about to mysteriously die?”
-A little mocha-skinned GIRL, aged 7 or 8, playing on a jungle gym, surrounded by other cherubic kids, seen through the cross-hairs of a SNIPER’S SCOPE.
-A GUNMAN positioned in the back of a van, rear doors open in a vacant alley blocks from the playground, aiming to kill.
-Finally, we see who is in the chair. Tight shot on FLOYD LAWTON’S (Will Smith) FACE. His visage is grim and stony, but his mask is cracking, concealing a simmering rage as his lips tremble uncontrollably.
The Distinguished Man remarks, “Deadshot it is.”
FADE TO BLACK.
-a hard-thumping orchestral/electronic score kicks in, low at first, but rising.
VOICE-OVER, another man’s voice, unable to stifle his worried excitement. Unlike the first man, his voice is neither distinguished nor eloquent.
“So, let me get this straight. You want to take the world’s most dangerous super-criminals...”
-AMANDA WALLER and RICK FLAGG moving down a corridor in Belle Reve. Heavily reinforced security doors stretch off into the distance.
-Camera rolls past several of the doors.
-A gallery of MUGSHOTS smash-cut from one to the next. Brief glimpses show us Slipknot, Diablo, Harley Quinn, Katana, Boomerang. Intercut with angles on top secret government documents. Eyes Only. X-ray slides show brain implants in each of them.
“...give them weapons...”
-Lawton and several other squadies, chaperoned by a small army of soldiers, in a government armory. Camera rolls past a wall littered with a myriad of military-grade assault weapons.
-Lawton, still unmasked, walking along a table displaying Deadshot’s implements of war. He runs his fingers lovingly along an assault rifle.
-The Squad suits up: Boomerang donning his coat and beaming down on one of his chrome boomerangs; Harley, looking in a mirror, putting on lipstick and puckering her lips, her mask of clown make-up complete; Diablo turns up his hands, flames dancing along his tattooed hands and fingers; Katana flexing her arms outward, her gleaming sword firmly in her grip; Deadshot adjusting his wrist gun and then finally putting on the mask, the reticle on his eye-scope spins, dialing in.
“...and then set them free?”
-The Distinguished Man responds, “That is exactly what we’re going to do.”
-KILLER CROC exploding through a wall, roaring.
-The Squad in a mission brief, photos of ENCHANTRESS are projected on a wall(surveillance photos, early mugshots), her vital information scrolling up beside it. The target.
-International maps with pins dotting points of interest. Angles on Eyes Only documents, walls of blacked over text, surveillance photos of North Korean and Russian military brass, the Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman.
-WALLER looking on, serious
-The Squad in an underground laboratory. Cylindrical incubators installed in the ground and against the wall pepper the facility. Strange humanoid organisms float in them, unmoving, in stasis.
-Deadshot standing before one of the incubators. Inside is a massive, towering behemoth; a mutated hybrid of man and shark.
-KING SHARK’S EYE flaps open.
-HARLEY, tied to a chair, interrogated. An agent clocks her with a punch. She spits a tooth at him and laughs uncontrollably.
-ARMED SOLDIERS firing in unison.
-Boomerang, admiring one of his curved weapons from behind a pillar, twirling it effortlessly as bullets smacks the concrete around him.
-Boomerang spins out from behind the pillar and hurls it like a discus. It arcs around a corner and hits a soldier dead in the chest, knocking him down into a sliding halt. The troops move up on their fallen brother, looking at the boomerang embedded in his chest. It’s BEEPING. An explosion bursts from the silence, vaporizing them.
-Diablo standing before a firing squad, arms out at his side, chin up. No fucks to give. Gunmen unload into him ineffectually as fire engulfs him.
-Harley now loose from her interrogators. Triggered sprinklers have slicked the floor with water. Drenched, she takes a running knee-slide to snatch up her boxing glove pistol from the ground and transitions into a spinning leap. In slow-motion she fires it. The glove cuts through the air. An agent sees it coming towards his face. The front of it, in big-bold letters reads: “KO!” It explodes resoundingly on contact.
-ENCHANTRESS in the center of a city street, unbound. She raises her hands and the fractured pavement around her begins to levitate.
-Zombified, mutated SPEC OPS soldiers rise from death, their faces covered in black-tar sores.
-DEADSHOT, BOOMERANG and HARLEY, hiding behind a slab of razed asphalt, looking on as the soldiers resurrect.
Deadshot: “We’re being setup.”
Boomerang: “No shit.”
Harley: “The only criminals worse than us...”
-The DISTINGUISHED MAN in his office, the top half of his face cloaked in shadow.
“...are the ones that hired us.”
-THE BATMAN crashing down on top of a pink sports car, Harley inside with her pale-faced driver.
-Slow-motion shot. Rain falls as HARLEY, in the foreground, laughs at us, giving the finger to the camera as THE JOKER stands just feet behind her, slightly out of focus, hands firmly on his cane which is planted in the ground. His toothy smile glows terrifyingly.
TEXT SUPERIMPOSED: “FOR THEM...”
-MONTAGE of action shots: Katana slicing the barrels off of the guns of several assailants, Boomerang wielding twin boomerangs like daggers, Killer Croc slashing away, Deadshot behind the scope of a sniper rifle, Harley blowing a kiss and winking.
TEXT SUPERIMPOSED: “EVERY MISSION”
FLAGG “None of us are without sin...”
Flagg firing a pistol point-blank at a fallen foe. Execution.
“...and we all have our demons.”
TEXT SUPERIMPOSED: “IS A SUICIDE MISSION”
THE MONEY SHOT: The Suicide Squad, together, back-to-back and shoulder-to-shoulder, fighting an onslaught of black-tar infected inside some secret underground facility.
Deadshot is firing into the fray with his wrist gun and an assault rifle hiked up to his side; Harley maniacally firing an MP5 as she chortles away, Boomerang slinging boomerangs, Diablo throwing plumes of flame, Katana slicing through the infected, Flagg expertly taking burst shots with an assault rifle tucked into his shoulder, Killer Croc roaring as he manhandles several infected and tosses them away.