This review contains spoilers for The Suicide Squad (2021).
Not to brag, but as soon as I walked out of the theater for The Suicide Squad, I immediately recognized the potential for James Gunn’s next project, Peacemaker. All eight episodes of the HBO Max show were wrapped by the time of the film’s dual theatrical and streaming release, and while fans responded positively to John Cena’s performance, others were confused as to why Peacemaker was specifically the character Gunn chose to flesh out in his own spin-off series. Serving as the surprise antagonist of the Squad, Peacemaker was a character people loved to hate in the moment more than one they desired to see more of. Despite every vile decision he makes in the final act of the film, I saw a profound sadness in the character’s big tortured eyes, and I knew that a writer/director fascinated with messy and complex characters such as Gunn would not let any of that sadness go to waste.
Peacemaker follows Christopher Smith (John Cena), the titular vigilante anti-hero who vows to protect peace at all costs, “no matter how many men, women, and children he has to kill to get it.” The series opens in the aftermath of The Suicide Squad, Peacemaker wakes up from his coma, still implanted with Amanda Waller’s (Viola Davis) explosives and immediately is tasked with another government mission in exchange for his own freedom. Paired up with a rag-tag group of black ops agents to carry out “Project Butterfly,” Peacemaker returns to his hometown and is confronted with the ghosts of his past, his abusive white supremacist father (Robert Patrick), and parasitic alien monsters that threaten the lives of humankind. Aided by Project Butterfly leader Clemson Murn (Chukwudi Iwuji), Waller’s daughter, Leota Adebayo (Danielle Brooks), agent Emilia Harcourt (Jennifer Holland), guy in the chair John Economos (Steve Agee), and eccentric fanboy anti-hero Adrian Chase/Vigilante (Freddie Stroma), Peacemaker learns the value of human connection that he’s been distancing himself from his entire life.
As the showrunner, sole writer, and director of five episodes, Peacemaker is the brainchild of James Gunn and a continuation of the nihilistic, absurdist, and vulgar corner of the DCEU he established in Squad. Though the retro needle drops, hyper-violence, and abrasive humor are identifiable stylistic markers for fans of Squad and Guardians of the Galaxy, this series stylistically feels like a return and evolution of the scrappy, lower-budget sensibilities Gunn developed with his early career. Peacemaker is notably scaled down in contrast to the film the lead character originated from. There’s a groundedness to the rough and grimy action sequences, any moment of spectacle is often interrupted by a shocking amount of mundanity that echoes Gunn’s first superhero outing, Super. Peacemaker’s first violent encounter with a butterfly is followed by an anti-climactic chase from the police and an “another day at the office” attitude from our ensemble cast. The show’s relationship with violence often mirrors our lead character’s relationship with his performance of said violence. There’s as much interest to revel in the blood and gore as there is an honest questioning of how much catharsis this truly brings Peacemaker. Gunn’s filmic impulses double as both critique and a celebration of a 14 year old boy’s ideal of masculinity, a characteristically appropriate edge to the themes Gunn wrestles with.
It’s certainly impressive how much stylistic freedom Gunn was given, but a creator is only as strong as their muse. Peacemaker is a true character focused piece, and while his supporting cast are certainly not sleeping on the job, the entirety of the show’s emotional potency rests on the broad, sculpted shoulders of John Cena. While many are complimenting Cena’s performance specifically against other former wrestlers-turned-actors, I would be so bold as to argue that Cena gives a true leading man performance that rivals most of our finest stars. Embodying a character as charismatically vulgar, troubled, and yet wholly empathetic as Peacemaker requires a serious talent and yet, Cena’s character work here feels effortless. No matter how outlandish and silly the tone of his comic book antics are, Gunn forces Cena to constantly be at his most physically and emotionally vulnerable; he can sing and dance to hair metal in his underwear with the same amount of purpose he brings to binge drinking himself to tears while recalling a formative childhood memory. He’s a brick house of a man, but his large, expressive eyes are a window to this character’s innate heart. I could break it down episode-by-episode, but perhaps that’s for another time. This is the role Cena was born to play, and it’s a treat to see the sad sack muscle guy I saw in theaters become a fully lived-in character.
While I personally still have a fondness for his other works, one could argue that Peacemaker is Gunn’s most successful attempt at his career-long thesis. The Guardians of the Galaxy movies and their tales of the redemptive power of love marked a huge shift from the datedly insincere indie shock value that put Gunn’s name on the map, and it’s been something he’s been trying to wrestle with ever since. It’s no coincidence that a filmmaker who has had to wrestle with his past self so publicly has ever since been so fixated on the concept of “goodness.” After his firing (and re-hiring) as director of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 by Disney, Gunn’s tone in The Suicide Squad felt provocative and angry; a feeling of vengefulness permeates the film’s visuals of candy colored comic book suits ironically juxtaposed against the bloody spirit of American nationalism. But underneath that facade is a movie that celebrates all who feel lost and rejected, one that argues our inherent flaws are still worthy of love (rats — if they have purpose, so do we all!) Peacemaker, written during production of The Suicide Squad feels like a strong evolution of that film’s argument. If we’re all worthy of love, does that include our villain?
Yes. With all this in mind, and with Cena as his canvas, it’s actually obvious why Gunn felt Peacemaker was the character to delve deeper into. There’s a built in empathy challenge for those who watched Peacemaker kill Rick Flag under a year ago. A knee-jerk response to the show’s announcement was often “why should we care about Peacemaker?” But in less than eight episodes, Gunn perfectly constructs an answer to that question. Watching Christopher Smith actively challenge the beliefs he was raised with by his neo-nazi father, directly confront (and cry over, a lot) his past transgressions, and find community in his newfound group of friends is shockingly cathartic. The series walks a hard line of interrogating what “redemption” truly means, Christopher’s troubled past is never a justification of the evil he’s performed but rather important context for the man he once was. Even when he’s caught in the worst of his old ways, Gunn makes the audience actively aware that this is a character with good in his heart and almost zero concept of what performing goodness is. In a genre almost completely defined by black and white morality, it feels innovative and fresh. While there’s no shortage of things to love about Peacemaker outside of Christopher Smith, the series ultimately hinges on the viewer accepting him as a human being, despite all of his faults.
Is Peacemaker a story of true redemption, though? Not by a long shot. Christopher has a lot to work on before he truly becomes the man of peace he envisions himself to be, and the season one finale does what a proper piece of television should do for his character: closing his first of many emotional arcs on his road to redemption. He’s not unlike Bojack Horseman in this way. I am similarly excited to see Christopher’s moral character progress as well as regress in Gunn’s serialized interrogation of what goodness means. As his first foray into television, Peacemaker feels like a natural adaptation of Gunn’s trademarks to the format and budget of an eight episode season. As the DCEU’s first direct spin-off to its theatrical offerings, it shows a sense of narrative confidence and full acceptance of the episodic medium that’s yet to be realized by their direct competition, the MCU and Star Wars Disney+ original shows. Like the title character himself, there’s a fitting ruggedness to Peacemaker that might not be immediately appealing, but I urge you to give peace a f***ing chance.
