PR in the Philippines

(SeaPRwire) –   Zack Snyder functions more as a curator of stylish atmospheres than a traditional director, particularly in a film like Sucker Punch. Emily Browning, with platinum blonde hair, guides a close group of rebels to liberation, armed with a samurai sword and a determined spirit, cutting down giants in temples and robots on high-speed trains. The dreamy cover song that begins the movie suggests that sweet dreams are indeed made of such things. However, upon its release 15 years ago, global audiences largely rejected Snyder’s early feminist statement.

“Sucker Punch is likely the most clear-cut instance of pure satire I’ve created,” Snyder said to Total Film in 2023. “And I still believe I didn’t push it far enough, since many viewers interpreted it as merely a film about lightly dressed girls dancing in a brothel.”

While Snyder’s fourth film is about girls dancing in a brothel, it also contains much more depth that critics at the time failed to fully appreciate. Some dismissed it as an unholy, “unerotic,” and “unthrilling” hybrid of a video game and a titillating film; for others, it was a cloying, “masturbatory fanboy fantasy.” Yet it was also unquestionably ahead of its time, a form of deconstruction that still seems fresh today.

The strength of Sucker Punch is found in its over-the-top nature and its identity as a parody. Snyder is directly critiquing exploitation in cinema and challenging what audiences expect to see.

“The primary critique of the film was that it was too exploitative,” the director recently informed Letterboxd. This is a criticism Snyder has always considered “interesting,” because the movie is “speaking directly to [the audience] about their desires. They want to see the girls, but they don’t want to see them empowered. They want to see them in sexy outfits.”

Sucker Punch delivers on all these fronts with a knowing nod, cloaking its empowering message in flirtatious costumes and dramatic makeup. It acts as a Trojan Horse for themes of self-determination, a point best illustrated by Browning’s character, Babydoll. She is simultaneously a victim and a hero: her efforts to control her own destiny continually fail, largely due to the oppressive, misogynistic environment Snyder constructs around her. Her backstory is profoundly tragic—she accidentally kills her younger sister while defending her from their vile stepfather—and her situation deteriorates further when he has her committed to a mental asylum. A lobotomy appears to mark the end of her life as she knows it… or perhaps it ultimately provides her with the means for escape.

Sucker Punch presents a layered reality, with different versions of the same ordeal playing out entirely in Babydoll’s imagination. She transforms her bleak new existence into something more enticing: the asylum becomes a brothel where she and her new friends are dancers. Her custodian, Blue (Oscar Isaac), is a womanizer who trades weapons, secrets, and other commodities, treating the women under his control as bargaining chips. This is nearly as oppressive as her real-world lack of agency—but in this imagined world, Babydoll possesses more control than she realizes. Her erotic dances have the power to mesmerize onlookers. She also escapes into a deeper fantasy realm where she brandishes a katana and receives guidance from a sage figure played by Scott Glenn of Daredevil fame.

Within this secondary world, Babydoll devises an escape plan. Glenn’s Wise Man tasks her with gathering five objects: a map, fire, a knife, a key, and a mysterious final item demanding “a deep sacrifice” to achieve “a perfect victory.” (The screenplay, written by Snyder and Steve Shibuya, alternates between wise, direct counsel and cryptic sayings like “Don’t ever write a check with your mouth you can’t cash with your ass.” Remarkable material.)

Every performance Babydoll gives functions as a mission, transporting her and her allies—the spirited Rocket (Jena Malone), her pragmatic sister Sweetpea (Abbie Cornish), Blondie (Vanessa Hudgens), and Amber (Jamie Chung)—into fantastical landscapes where the only law is sheer, unstoppable style. These powerful women defeat dragons in immense castles and automated German soldiers in trenches reminiscent of WWI; they are invincible and dominant for as long as Babydoll dances, subtly changing their circumstances.

Snyder, for his part, heavily employs the exaggerated slow-motion and highly stylized, graphic novel-inspired aesthetics that now define his work. In this film more than others, however, this visual approach serves a greater purpose, acting as a symbolic rebellion against a crushing reality.

“I’m less concerned with the danger than I am with the euphoria of the mental empowerment Babydoll experiences in the moment,” Snyder explained to Letterboxd. “I understand that in some respects it contradicts the usual point of action sequences… [but] that’s essentially the film’s thesis—the allure of powerful imagery.”

It took years for viewers to fully comprehend this idea, a process hindered by the significant resistance Snyder encountered in realizing his vision. The director was compelled to alter the film’s structure and its originally planned wild ending to fit an R-rated narrative into a PG-13 framework. (Snyder continues to campaign for the release of his director’s cut of Sucker Punch to present the “fully realized movie,” though it is uncertain if or when this will occur.) Regardless of the compromises, Snyder’s intended message is now unmistakable. His eccentric dark fantasy is still his most misinterpreted work, but the story’s power to captivate is undeniable.

Sucker Punch is streaming on HBO Max.